Clean Hatred
By: Luna Angel
Disclaimer: Still don't own. Please don't sue.
A/N from Luna: And here we have Chapter One, one of our shorter chapters. I believe I said everything I needed to say last chapter, so enjoy, and I'll see you in Chapter Three.
Chapter One
The sturdy door swung open with a disgruntled groan as Dante strode in, exhaustion sitting heavily on his form. He was followed closely by Vergil, who shouldered his exhaustion less obviously than his brother, but still collapsed bonelessly on the sofa across the room. Dante slung his weapons onto his desk and threw himself into his chair, propping his feet on the desktop before grabbing a beer and twisting off the cap.
"That was a damn waste of an afternoon," he grumbled, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a healthy swig.
Vergil didn't respond to Dante's comment, merely removing his weapons and placing them carefully beside him. He picked up a pending case file and began paging through it, evaluating the job to decide whether to take it.
The pair sat in silence until Dante finished his beer and pushed himself to his feet with a faint grunt. He sat down behind his drums and began playing abstract rhythms, quietly at first, but gaining energy and volume as the seconds passed.
A muscle along Vergil's jaw began to twitch as Dante played, and about a minute into it, he snapped. "Would you stop that incessant droning?" he growled violently.
Dante stopped, glaring at Vergil, and opened his mouth to respond. He closed it just as quickly when an angry yell drifted to them. He and Vergil exchanged glances, and stood, grabbing their weapons and running out onto the street.
The scene that met their eyes stopped them dead in their tracks. The swarm of demons that had appeared at the end of the street was of a truly impressive size, all converging on one location.
Suddenly, two of the demons flew toward them, thrown out of the group. This seemed to be some signal, for the group scattered slightly, the once-tight circle widening, allowing Dante and Vergil a glimpse of two figures in the center of the mess fighting ferociously. Their wings overlapped as they stood back-to-back, making certain nothing could sneak up on them.
A heavy blow from one of the demons sent one of the angels flying, impacting with a sickening slap on the broken concrete. The sound shook the brothers out of their stupors, sending them running toward the group, weapons drawn.
The second angel rushed to the side of the downed warrior, sliding an arm around her waist and hoisting her off the ground. Seeing the demons distracted, she began running, an odd, lilting gait, pulling her comrade along at her side.
Seeing their quarry disappearing and a new, tougher battle coming, the gathered demons rapidly dissipated, fleeing the scene. The few who chose to chase after their prey were rapidly picked off by Dante's guns, and soon the street was quiet again.
The door slammed into the wall, deepening the already-existing dent, before ricocheting back towards the two women limping through the doorway.
Liara pushed the door shut behind them with her foot, supporting her sister across the room and carefully lowering her onto the pile of blankets that covered Adara's bed. She quickly stacked the two, thin pillows and placed them under Adara's head before kneeling beside her.
"Dar," she whispered, stroking her sweat-soaked forehead gently, pushing the matted hair off her face.
Adara's eyes opened slowly, blinking languidly as she strained to focus on her sister's face. "I'm okay Lia," she murmured quietly. "Things are just a little fuzzy. Let me lay here for a minute, then I'll be all right." Her eyes started to close, but she forced them open again. "What time is it?"
"It's early still. Don't worry; we don't have to be at work for a few hours yet."
Adara nodded, letting her eyes drift shut. Her breathing slowed slightly and evened as she slipped into unconsciousness.
Liara pushed herself to her feet, wandering to the small area that served as their kitchen, containing little more than a tap, two sets of battered service and a few dry goods. Liara quickly filled a cup with water from the tap and moved to attend to the small amount of dough they had left to rise. She quickly kneaded and formed it with the practiced ease of one accustomed to the task, then set it into their small oven to bake. That chore completed, she went about the daily business of straightening their small, battered apartment, and preparing herself for the night's work. She sighed at the thought of the lost income that evening, as she would be the only one dancing. Adara would likely end up behind the bar serving drinks, and the tips weren't nearly as good doing that. But the bruises she had earned when she impacted with the ground necessitated staying off the stage. A bit of makeup and the darker lights of the floor and bar would hide them, but the bright lights that illuminated the dancers would let them show fully, and a battered woman didn't attract business.
Adara stirred nearly two hours later, as Liara was beginning the nightly ritual of beautification demanded of the dancers at 'Midnight Fantasy', sitting up sluggishly with one hand held to her head. "Ungh," she groaned lowly as she pushed herself to her feet and moved to get a cup of water. "I hate headaches."
"I'm not really surprised you have one," Liara said gently, smiling at her. "You got hit pretty hard."
"Believe me, I know that. And I'm going to be working the bar tonight, won't I?" she said with a wry smile.
"Yep. You've got a pretty impressive set of bruises. Luckily you heal fast. By the day after tomorrow, you should be okay to go on stage again."
"I'm sorry, Lia," Adara said sadly. "I know it isn't good when we lose the money from dancing. I should have been paying better attention."
"Hey, remember, I'm the one who got hurt last time. And I was hurt way worse than you are. Don't stress, we'll be fine. Besides," she said with a devilish grin, "I make better money than you on the stage anyway."
Adara glared at her playfully. "You do not. I'm willing to bet I make more money on the floor than you do on the stage."
"Are you sure you want to do that?"
"Why, think you're gonna lose?"
"Oh, you are so on," Liara said enthusiastically, slathering lotion on her legs.
Adara grinned at her, before gathering her things for work.
Liara grabbed her own bag and slung it over her shoulder after rolling the legs of her sweats back down, slipping her feet into her shoes and following her sister out the door.
The twins entered the back room of the club from the alley behind it, opening their lockers and exchanging greetings with the other dancers sitting at their prep stations. A few of the dancers exclaimed over Adara's bruises, but once she had her concealer on and was fully dressed, she stepped into the less lit area of the dressing room. "Hey Lia, can you see them?" she asked, looking at her younger sister anxiously.
"Nope, not a bit," Liara responded before returning to fixing her own makeup.
"Good. See you out there." Liara nodded in acknowledgement and Adara made her way toward the front of the club, pausing to talk to the stage manager before making her way to the bar.
The sun was coming up before the sisters got to talk again, and they were too exhausted from their night to say much then. The streets were quiet as they made their way home, barely managing to get the door locked and their clothes off before they collapsed into their beds, asleep.