"Is this really why you called me?"

Hands placed hands on her hips, lips pursed into a thin line, Lady was the very picture of displeasure. Dante gave a last check to Ebony and Ivory - everything was functioning perfectly of course, the old woman knew what she did - before he placed them in their holsters. He patted them lovingly, with the tenderness of a lover, before he turned around to face the woman.

"I'm sorry 'bout this. The whole lying part, too. Really. But neither sitters would take him, Vergil is on a mission, and a call just came in, so I have to leave."

She was not amused. Not in the least.

"Did you ever stop to think that I might not be particularly interested?"

"Aren't women usually interested in cute kids?" Dante asked, pressing his fingers into Nero's cheeks. This made the kid look vaguely like a chipmunk, but if looks could kill, the man would probably…

Yeah, no. He would probably just go on like a ghost without missing a beat.

Dante yowled more in surprise than in pain as Nero somehow got free and bit into his hand. The kid's jaw was strong; he held on to limb like a pit bull would to a piece of wood as the devil slayer tried to shake him off. Lady rolled her eyes and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"And that is why you have such shitty luck with scoring dates," she said as the boy finally let his uncle go, "You and your assumptions about women."

"Will you do it or will you not?" he asked, examining the quickly fading red marks before asking jokingly, "Do you know a good doctor? I might need a shot for rabies."

"How much do I get?"

"My eternal loyalty and I'll even proclaim loudly that you are better with a gun than I am."

"Heck no. I'm talking money. Cash, preferably."

"You drive a hard bargain," Dante scratched at the nape of his neck, "Alright, but only because I am in a hurry. Ten percent of what the job pays, an additional one percent for every hour I'm not here after midnight."

"Since you are in a hurry, twenty-five percent, and an additional two percent per hour."

"You are a lifesaver," he said with a relieved sigh as he eased Rebellion onto his back. The woman waved.

"I know. Off you go, clock is ticking."

"Oh yeah," he said, stopping in his tracks for a moment, "If anything comes in, just write it on the notepad."

"I am not your secretary!" she yelled, but the door already closed with a soft click.

For a moment only the ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard. Lady turned to the boy and crossed her arms. He returned her stare passively, something that he probably picked up from his father.

"Whatever shall I do with you?"

"We could play pony?" he asked in a tiny voice, as if embarrassed by asking for such a thing.

"Do I look like a pony to you? I think not."

"Oh."

Seeing his crestfallen expression, she laid her jaw on her palm in contemplation. What is something that kids and adults can enjoy equally and she is adept enough at it?

"Say Nero, have you ever shot a gun?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. Dressed in green, the movement of the wispy silver and white hair made him look like a humanoid dandelion for a second. "Father and Uncle will not let me."

"Well, they are not here now, so I was thinking that you and I make the most of today. Agreed?"

The gun was only a small air handgun – while she trusted him to not do anything stupid, and luckily his uncle's ideas of how the weapons should be handled didn't seem to rub off much on him, the kid was only five and then some – but he seemed to have the time of his life.

"Very good!" Lady complemented as she crouched next to Nero once the magazine was empty. "Now remember; while the head is a good target, it's also relatively small. It's likely to be fatal, but the chance of hitting it is pretty low. It takes time and practice."

Nero looked at the cutouts in confusion.

"But…"

"Figures do not fear for their lives, so they are not likely to run away."

"Why would they fear for their lives?"

Because you are Sparda's grandkid, so the odds are already against you, kiddo. Unfortunately, he was rather good at making enemies, and so are your uncle and father. You won't really have a say in this. Fuck. Just how are those two imbeciles raising this kid?

She ran a hand through her hair.

She hoped they at least had the "candy man in the van" talk with him.

"Nero, remember two weeks ago, the evil things? The ones that followed you and your father home?"

"Yes?"

Her mouth turned sour. Just how do you explain to a child, so innocent and young, that from the moment he was born, he didn't really have a choice on how to live his life due to his heritage?

"Well… Sometimes those things will not just go away on their own. Sometimes they will also threaten things or people you are trying to protect. And you have to make a choice between the thing and those you hold dear."

Like we all did.

"Oh." The kid looked at the weapon in his hand in contemplation. "I see."

This was turning gloomy fast. Lady clapped her hands and forced a smile on her face.

"With that said, you can also incapacitate. Aiming at the legs and the lower part on the torso is best for this."

Although there is still the chance of hitting some major blood vessel and bleeding out, but maybe let's not go there just yet.

She pulled out her own gun, releasing a load into a vaguely spider-shaped cutout. Eight legs fell at the same time. "See? Can you now try to do the same?"

"I think so."

"Good. Then we can…" The kid wobbled on his feet. Immediately alert, she placed down the cartridges she was playing with and got the gun from his hand. "Nero, are you okay?"

"Yes. I think so." His eyes were bright. Too bright.

She placed a hand on his forehead. Definitely hot.

"That's enough play for today. You are running a fever. We are going back."

"But…"

"No buts, young man, as fun as I make it look, shooting is a serious business. You can't practice it when sick."

Something about ravens and kettles, she thought to herself as she handed everything over to the range's owner. By the time she fixed him in the car, his face was taking on a faint reddish pink sheen.

Dante was unreachable as usual. Lady frowned at the number right under the other one.

She'd have been lying to herself if she said that she wasn't the least bit worried about this phone call. Despite how much Vergil supposedly changed, there was still an aura of bitter cold that clung to him like a second jacket, something that made Lady anxious at best, trigger-happy at worst.

She pressed 'Call'. The phone rang. Once. Twice.

"Yes?"

"Get your ass back home," she said into the speaker, "Nero is sick."

"Children can get sick fairly often, I'm told."

"Yes, and a fever is fairly often a good sign."

"I do not see the urgency of the matter."

She bit her tongue to stop herself from saying various profanities into the speaker. "I will show you urgency if you do not show up within the hour, got that?"

"Of course."

The line went dead. Lady pursed her lips as she looked at the kid, so tiny in his bead as he was clutching his plush tiger.

"I'm sorry, Kyrie, I did not mean it. Please don't tell Credo," he mumbled. Lady froze. Young as he was, he did not talk about what happened to him before Vergil found out about his existence. To be fair, he only recently started opening up more. Initially she believed his curt answers to be genetic, but it turned out to be just part of his acclimatisation process.

But now he was talking to someone from his past. Maybe someone from the foster family or the orphanage she heard about. Would this mean that a fever dream is coming on?

"So what seems to be the problem?"

Lady jumped in fright, her hand automatically moving to the holster on her thigh that was now empty. Her other arm brushed over the back of her waist. Relief washed over her that it was still firmly in place; the general rule stated "no guns upstairs near the kid's room", but hey, it never hurt to be careful, and she didn't have some fancy transformation as a backup plan. "Don't ever do that again."

"I'll try to keep it in mind," Vergil replied sardonically, "You made it quite obvious that I should be in a hurry; therefore, here I am."

"Of course I did you… " she mouthed the word jackass, "Your son is sick and his temperature keeps on climbing. For now, it seems to have slowed down, but if it goes on much longer, he might need to see a doctor."

"So fragile," Vergil said with something like a half-sigh.

"Yeah well, he is what, five? I doubt you went around killing demons at that age."

Or who knows. Probably he did.

"So what is it you'd have me do?"

"Well, he has been asleep for the better part of the hour, but… I don't know, go over there and when he wakes up, comfort him?"

"If you think that will help."

"Yeah. I think it would."

Vergil did not move. If Lady didn't know any better, she would have believed him to be uncertain about how to proceed in the situation that was probably a novelty to him. In that moment, Nero's eyes opened, unnaturally bright from the fever that was burning him from the inside.

"Father?" he whispered through chafed lips.

"I'm here."

"Can you tell me a story?"

"I do not think…"

"Comfort," Lady reminded him with an edge in her voice, but the brightest smile she could manage. "You do not have to think."

What Nero didn't see was her the pistol that she hid beneath her jacket, at the moment pressed tightly against Vergil's back.

"Try to dodge this, jackass. It might not kill you, but it will sting like a bitch," she whispered through her teeth, lips barely moving.

"I could kill you before you moved that finger," he replied in an equally low voice dripping with malice.

She increased the pressure, lodging the gun between two ribs.

"Wanna try? In front of your son?"

He turned his head, just barely, and gave her a look that usually made men piss their pants. "I will remember this."

"Oh, you better."

Deciding against further escalating the situation with the obviously determined woman, Vergil crossed the room and took place on the single chair by Nero's bed. The boy slowly and gingerly wrapped his warm fingers around his hand.

A story.
He read many books, but none seemed too fitting for a sickly child he didn't even know existed until seven months ago.

Then from deep within, a memory came, a memory of golden curls, and an old, slightly wrinkled book.

"Once there was, far, far away, a lake….

"How far?"

"Very. In the depths of this lake, coiled into rings of green and gold, lived a dragon…"

"So that's twenty-five percent of your cut, plus ten for the extra hours, am I right?" she asked as Dante walked through the door, something black still dropping from his hair. His usually vibran red coat turned into a murky brown.

"And a good day to you, too."

"Ah, no," she danced in his way as he tried to head upstairs, "That shower will have to wait."

"The hell you are talking about?"

"Well, if you'd answer your phone, just once, you'd know. Nero got sick. Your brother told him a story and now they are both asleep."

"Vergil," he asked as he dropped onto the couch opposite his desk, furniture cleaning bills be damned.

"Ah-ha."

"A story."

"Yup. Too bad he is a murderous maniac, I think he has talents in the tale-telling department."

"You are not pulling my leg?"

"Lady deadpanned as she put a hand over her heart while raising the other one, as if taking an oath. "I swear on your life."

"Funny."

"Aren't I?" she replied with a cheeky grin and extended her palm, "Now, payment. Cash, but won't complain if it's gold."