Update: Hey! Hey! I finally got off my butt and wrote another chapter! Yippe! This one is plot heavy if you dont mind and for all you Trish fans out there I hope you like (I hope to god she isn't to out of char. if so I am deeply sorry)
Discaimer: Devil May Cry isn't mine, neither are any of it's chars. blah blah blah. You know what I mean. We all go through this.

Chapter 3

Morning arrived, bringing with it dull light to fill every corner of the office. Crystal sighed, having barely gotten a wink of sleep. She stared straight up at the cobweb-filled ceiling, resting her forearm on her forehead and her other arm on her stomach. She purposely avoided looking at the many posters of nude women and demon head trophies adorning the wall. Honestly, such a blatant obsession with sex and death was quite disturbing, and overwhelmingly male.

After a few seconds of silence, she heard the heavy footsteps of boots approaching. She sat up quickly and looked in the direction of the noise. It was Dante, to no surprise, just entering the room. He looked over at her and gave a small smirk. "Sleep well?" he asked in an almost teasing manner.

Crystal gave a small sarcastic laugh. "Funny…" she said with a slight amount of venom.

Dante raised an eyebrow at her saucy answer. Before he could even open his mouth to reply, the doors to the dwelling opened and a tall woman decked out in black leather entered. "Hello Dante," the blonde greeted.

He turned toward her. "Trish, how did your demon hunting go?" Dante asked in a decent voice that he had yet to use on Crystal.

"Not good. Client died before I could get there," she informed with a sad sigh.

Dante laughed a bit. "You know Trish that isn't good for business. Try and get there earlier next time," he stated teasingly.

"Shut up, Dante," she hissed, tiredly.

Crystal, who had been sitting quietly on the sofa, shifted slightly, the small movement catching Trish's eye. She motioned to the shorter woman. "Client?" she asked.

Dante gave a disgruntled sigh. "Yes…" he muttered, walking back over to the desk.

"Oh, so I'm a burden now? You could have turned me down and let that demon kill me if I am such a problem!" Crystal spat with considerable anger.

"Maybe I should fucking drag you back out there and be done with it then," Dante retorted with a smirk as he sat behind his desk, placing his feet atop it.

Trish shot a chiding look at her business counterpart then turned to Crystal. "He wouldn't do that. He can't turn down a girl in trouble, no matter what," she reassured, acting as the peacemaker. "So what's your name?"

"Crystal," she answered simply, looking at the ground.

"Well, I'm Trish," she replied with a smile.

The phone rang a few seconds of slightly-awkward silence later. Dante removed his feet from the desktop and leaned forward, picking up the receiver.

"Devil Never Cry. State your business," Dante said casually.

For a few moments, he listened quietly holding the phone close to his ear. While listening to the person on the other end he motioned Trish over. "Fine," he replied into the phone. Dante hung up and wrote an address down on a piece of paper, giving it to the blonde woman. "It's small. I got bigger things to deal with," he whispered, motioning to Crystal ever-so-slightly.

Trish nodded and folded the paper in half, walking out of the office. Dante returned his attention to the girl on the sofa. Crystal took a moment to notice that he was staring at her.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"You owe me an explanation as to why demons are after you and how you know that Gheis guy," he replied.

Dante leaned back in his chair and swung his feet around, letting them rest on the top of the desk with a thud.

Crystal looked down at the ground, her hair shielding her eyes. "You don't want to know…" she replied softly.

"I do. You did hire me right? Well, weaseled your way in is more like it. But I can't help you if you don't tell me what the fuck is going on," he pointed out.

Crystal sighed and looked at him, her eyes full of worry and fear. Somehow, Dante knew her look wasn't a ruse, unlike when he first met her. He sat up straight and put on a serious face.

"Fine, you don't have to tell me now if you don't want to," he said with an exasperated sigh.

Trish looked at the address on the paper, then at the numbers on the side of the house. She reached a hand out and pressed the doorbell once. She heard it chime then nothing else. Moments later, the locks unlatched and the door opened hesitantly.

"Can I help you?" a woman asked through the slightly-cracked wooden door.

"Yeah, I am from Devil Never Cry. I am here to investigate-" she was cut short by the elderly woman.

"Come in. I will inform you of the problem," she stated, opening the door further.

Trish stepped inside and looked around the old home. It was filled with family pictures and knick knacks of many sorts. The woman led her into the family room on the left and motioned her to sit. Trish accepted with a smile and sat down gently on the floral couch.

"So, uh, what sort of demonic trouble are you having in such a lovely home, ma'am?" Trish asked.

"Oh dear, no it isn't me with the problem. It's my granddaughter. I fear for her life," she said walking to a nearby woodstove with a kettle on top.

There was a pause in the conversation as the lady grabbed a few tea cups from a shelf near by and prepared some tea in the warmed kettle. She opened the lid and dropped in a handful of tea leaves and replaced the kettle lid. She walked back over kettle and cups in hand, placing one in front of Trish. "Tea?" she offered.

"Okay. I take it straight." Trish gave a small smile as the woman poured her a cup.

The lady sat across the coffee table and poured herself a cup, putting a few spoonfuls of sugar in it, and stirred.

"So what type of trouble is she in?" Trish asked, lifting the cup to her lips and taking a small sip.

"Her father works for demons. He made a deal with them to offer her over to them. He was such a good child; I don't know where I went wrong." The woman's pale eyes saddened, the lines around them deepening, and looked into her cup.

"I am sure it wasn't your fault," Trish reassured. "What is your granddaughter's name, background and do you have a picture that can help us?" She set the tea cup back down on the coffee table and looked up at her.

"Oh yes." She stood and shuffled over to a small desk, opening a side drawer. She shuffled around in it for a moment and pulled out an old picture, then walked back over and circled around the coffee table. She sat next to Trish and handed the picture over to her. "It is a baby picture. I assume she is 19 or 20 now."

Trish examined the picture. In it, a beautiful woman with pale skin and blonde hair was holding an infant. "Are those angel wings?" she asked, pointing to the faded background of what appeared to be feathers.

"Oh yes. Her mother is an angel. A lovely, caring woman. Her name is Vivian. The baby's name is written on the back with a note from her mother. If you see the girl, can you tell her that her grandma misses her and that picture is from her?" she asked.

"Yes. Sure. But can I ask you some stuff about her?" Trish asked.

"Absolutely darling," she replied with a grandmotherly smile.

Trish flipped over the picture and read the note on the back. "Do you have any information on this girl… Crystal…? Uh… scratch that. Did you say about 20 years old?"

"Yes."

"Brown hair, green eyes?"

"Yes like my son."

Trish smiled for a moment and looked into her eyes. "Ma'am, don't worry. She is fine. I saw her an hour ago back at our office. We will keep her safe," she affirmed, standing up.

"Oh thank the Lord!" the old woman let out a relieved sigh.

"I must go tell my business partner now. Thank you for the tea." She walked out the door and was gone, leaving a very relieved grandmother sitting on the family room sofa.