Chapter 1

In a gloomy city, the rain continued to pour down like it had never done before. Rivers of water sloshed noisily down the pipes of gutters, streams of liquid came running along every crevice in the cracked pavement. Yet somehow, in spite of this, Dante quite enjoyed the noise as he sat inside the agency of Devil May Cry.

After all, the noise was welcome after the unexpected power outage.

He sat there happily, nursing a soothing mug of hot chocolate to him, waiting for it to cool down enough so then it was actually drinkable, but in the meantime, he was more than happy to let the warm mug soothe his palms, feeling the heat spreading outwards as the rain continued to crash down upon the world relentlessly.

Though the building was totally dark, Dante found that he was more than able to see clearly due to his night vision, due to one of the many gifts his father had passed down to him. Even so, he couldn't help but be bored. No electricity meant that there was no television to watch, and it meant that there was no music to listen to, nor were there any computer games for him to play. In short, there was nothing for him to do. There wasn't even any light so then he could –God forbid- read a book. All he could do was sit there on the couch, wrapped up in a huge but thick quilt, sip at his cooling hot chocolate and listen to the rain as it pounded.

He smiled secretly to himself and snuggled further into the warm comforting embrace of the quilt, closing his eyes happily as he heard a sudden grunt and a loud yelp of pain. This was followed in quick succession by a series of thumping sounds as someone fell down the stairs. It appeared as though his brother had finally awakened after the mission he had taken last night. It must have been a hard one, Dante thought to himself, for it was not every day that Vergil slept for nearly twenty four hours. Still, he couldn't complain. His job had become a hell of a lot easier since his brother had returned from the Underworld, looking for a place to stay.

Still, this did not mean in the slightest way that Vergil had changed totally, had become more like Dante. If anything, after his ordeal in the underworld, he had become even more reserved and quiet, even more drawn to his books, though Dante was relieved to note that none of them had anything to do with the dark arts. Unless he counted Dr. Faustus as one. The only thing that had really changed about Vergil was the fact that he no longer seemed to think that evil was the way in which to gain power, though he was still hungry for it as he had never been before.

He opened his eyes again as he sensed his brother coming closer. He could hear his growling breaths; he was clearly frustrated.

'What,' his brother hissed dangerously, 'happened to the lights?' Dante swung his head slowly to look at him, the expression on his face sardonic.

'I just wanted to see you fall over so I asked the company whether they could kill the power in the entire city just so then I could play a prank.' Vergil huffed in answer to this and made as if to sit down beside him. He was stopped however, and his eyes flared crimson as Dante immediately stretched out his legs, ensuring there was no more room for his brother to sit. Not one to give up though, Vergil shoved and pushed at his legs until he had forced a space that was barely enough for him to fit in.

'Sometimes Dante, I wish I could be bothered to kill you.'

'So why don't you then?'

'Because after dealing with so much motivation, I just want to have a go at being a procrastinator instead.'

'Vergil?'

'…'

'You might as well give that up now. You suck at being lazy. You don't know how to relax.'

'And you can't do anything right.'

'I freed you, didn't I?'

'A mere coincidence.'

'And didn't I defeat Mundus?'

'No. Your friend, Trish. She defeated him.'

'What about Arkham?'

'Again, Lady dealt the final blow. Face it, you take the credit for all the achievements of others. And people still treat you like a God, even Trish and Lady.'

'Do I sense a hint of jealousy, dear brother?' Vergil glared at him. 'No? Then I guess it's just the stick up your ass again. Vergil didn't feel that it was worth the time and the effort to dignify that remark with an answer. Instead, he watched as Dante got up and shuffled to the kitchen, planning to put his now empty mug in the sink, that was only empty due to Vergil's obsessive compulsiveness when it came to cleaning, something that Dante had at first found was insufferable. Then, as time had passed, Dante had found it to be a bonus. He never had to bother doing work again if Vergil was there to do it all for him. And if anything, the frantic cleaning seemed to keep Vergil happy and busy and more or less out of trouble.

As Dante pondered on this and walked towards the kitchen, careful to avoid anything that might make him trip, Vergil narrowed his eyes slyly and promptly sat himself down in the spot that Dante had only just vacated. He smirked as he took the warm quilt, made even more cosy due to his brother's body heat and wrapped it around himself, letting out a content sigh as he snuggled into it, closing his eyes at the sheer bliss of it all.

For a few moments, he stayed like that, feeling the warmth melt the cold away that he could feel in his bones. He listened to the somewhat distant noises of Dante crashing about in the kitchen, trying to adjust his vision to the new lighting, however slight it was it always somehow threw their vision off if the slightest thing changed.

Vergil smiled slightly to himself before his hearing turned somewhat fuzzy as Vergil sank deeper and deeper into a comfortable sleep. He was soon utterly unaware of the fact that Dante was coming back, that he was inching closer and closer, had paused to adjust his sight and was close to the couch. He became more than aware, when he was rudely awakened by Dante's annoyed shout.

'Thief!' Vergil glared at him, but his expression softened once he saw the horrified look on Dante's face. 'You stole my spot! And my quilt!'

'You have had this quilt since you were a child. And you never think of getting a new one?' Dante was silent. Vergil sighed. 'I guess not.'

'Give me back my spot. Now.'

'Why? What are you going to do to me if I don't?'

'I'll…'

'Cry?'

'No!'

'Then what if you're not going to cry?'

'I'm going to kick you off the couch and hog the entire thing for myself.'

'Like how you were doing when I first walked into the room?' Dante growled at him in reply but was immediately distracted as the phone started shrieking, the noise sounding particularly loud and eerie in the dark and silent building. It was only then that Dante realized that they had been talking in whispers for the majority of the time, as though they were in a holy place. So bloody ironic that it wasn't even funny.

The twins watched each other steadily, each one silently challenging the other to make a move to grab the phone, Vergil unwillingly to move even the slightest after he had just made himself comfortable and much more importantly, warm and Dante, silently daring him and goading him with his eyes, waiting for Vergil to break and answer the phone so then he could regain his rightful place on the couch and take back his quilted cocoon. It was truly a raw battle of will and determination, a very real test to see who really possessed nerves of steel.

Vergil raised his eyebrows, causing Dante to grit his teeth with anger. He knew only too well as to what that look meant; "Do you really want to let an opportunity slip through your fingers like this? All for a warm piece of cloth?" Dante already knew the answer, and what was more was that he knew Vergil knew the answer too.

He growled angrily before spinning around on his heel and marching towards the still shrieking phone. Thankfully, he missed the sight of Vergil smiling, yes smiling gleefully and snuggling further down into the covers, watching Dante through mischievously malicious eyes.

The phone stopped its racket immediately as soon as Dante picked it up. He held it to his ear before breathing out a sigh of defeat, angry that he had lost the silent and somewhat juvenile battle.

'Devil May Cry?' Vergil listened happily through the covers to Dante's resigned tone, knowing that more likely than not it was just a prank call, the way it usually was on most nights. There was a silence and then the scratching of a pen. Vergil deigned to poke his head out over the quilt, watching curiously as Dante tapped the pen against his teeth, looking thoughtful. He continued to stare as Dante took more notes down on a pad of paper, tore it out and then stuffed it into his pocket. He cursed inwardly. If only he'd picked up the phone! Then he would have been able to go out on a job and escape the frightfully boring building. Television and video games might not have interested him in the slightest but damn it, one still needed light to read by, did they not?

Still, it was his own fault, Vergil conceded. It had been his own fault for even suggesting the rule one day when Vergil had picked up the phone, spoken out the details out loud, and had turned around to see that Dante had already ran out of the building, grabbing his guns and swords, leaving him trapped in the building with nothing much to do. The last time they had gone on a mission together, it had ended in relative chaos, what with Dante accidentally dropping the very ancient amulet they had been asked to protect and breaking it in the process when Vergil had accidentally hit him on the head with the hilt of his sword. After that particular incident, Dante had forced Vergil to downplay the fancy sword-work and they had also come to the conclusion that they would take missions and fly solo.

After multiple times of watching Dante running out of the house with the job details Vergil had unwittingly given to them, the older twin had made the rule that whoever picked up the phone has to deal with the mission, and that under no circumstances was one to steal the other's job.

Now Vergil bitterly regretted making any such rule. But still, he had honour and he was not about to go back on his word any time soon, simply because it was also a matter of pride. So it was that he could do nothing but glower at his younger twin as he went about the room, gathering his guns to him, strapping his sword to him and shrugging on his leather coat, all in quick succession. Suddenly, the warm quilt and couch seemed like scant comfort. Dante stopped to take a minute to smirk at his older twin.

'It's a job. A real one.'

'Money?'

'Not much. Probably not going to charge at all.'

'And your excuse this time?'

'Verge, not all people are money grubbing misers like you.'

'The majority are. Your excuse?'

'The guy sounded old. Probably on a pension. They never work out all right for them. I'm not going to charge, and if I do, just a small sum.' Vergil shook his head at his brother's answer to his question, his nose wrinkling slightly.

'You are too soft for your own good. There are such things as bills.'

'And such things as loans.'

' "Oh Mr. Bank Manager! I own a business called Devil May Cry where we kill beings you probably don't think exist! Will you grant me a loan while we've hit our rough patch?" ' Vergil promptly replied, his voice high, a pretty pathetic impression. Dante glowered at him before rolling his eyes at his brother's childish display.

'Enjoy your meditating or whatever the hell it is you do. All the emergency numbers are on the fridge. Think you'll be able to dial the numbers on your own?' Vergil hissed at him in reply, knowing only too well what Dante was alluding to.

'Your mobile phone was complicated and confusing. It has too many mindless features. Who would WANT to take a photo with a phone anyway? Next it'll be programmed to tie your shoelaces!'

'Yes and knowing you, you'll be the one to programme it. Geek.' And without another word, Dante strode out of the building, leaving a fuming Vergil to glare at him out of the window.