Charlotte thought she was alone until she met Vergil. Well, met wasn't exactly right. One day he followed her from their shared classroom, out the backdoor of a local yogurt spot, and down a dark alley. She had been convinced that he was another demon. It turned out that she was partially right. Half, in fact. From that misunderstanding on, instead of being cursed to walk the streets of Limbo City alone until the day that the demons disposed of her as they did her parents, she counted herself blessed that she could instead walk at the side of a friend. Another Nephilim.
Years passed and the two became inseparable. Vergil convinced Charlotte to join him in founding The Order to overthrow the demons and free humanity from their rule, because, he said, only a Nephilim could defeat the demon king.
So, they got to work. With the millions that Vergil made writing his security encryption software, purchasing a warehouse and employing the best and brightest in Limbo City had been down-right easy. There was only one piece missing: Vergil's brother.
Dante.
Where Vergil was calm, collected, and calculating, Dante was impulsive, blunt, chaotic. He rocked into The Order beside Kat like some punky god of the underworld, oozing confidence and a devil-may-care attitude. He had been rough then, unable or unwilling to let his guard down and trust anyone after years spent fighting the demonic hoard that was inexhaustibly drawn to him.
Slowly but surely, however, Dante opened up. First to Kat, then to his brother, and finally, to Charlotte – or, Charlie, as he'd decided to call her.
It was hard for Charlie to pinpoint when their friendship had started. More than likely, it had been when they were sent on their first job together, where they had earned each other's trust fighting back-to-back against wave after wave of Limbo's worst. Dante wasn't the only one who could fight, after all, and although Charlie preferred to stay at HQ, sometimes missions were a two-Nephilim job.
Since that day, Dante and Charlie became nearly as inseparable as Charlie and Vergil had bee – the latter brother now hidden away in his office more often than not.
And that's when the feelings began.
They trickled in slowly, manifesting in stollen glances, the brushing of shoulders, and the odd blush, steadily growing as Dante softened around his edges and lowered his walls to let his new friends in until Charlie was caught up in a current, unable to escape the churning anxiety, attraction, and general giddiness.
A crush. Breathtaking. Undeniable. One-sided.
Vergil had been the one to bring her back down to earth. He observed the closeness that blossomed between his brother and Charlotte at first with interest, then with a growing irritation. This wasn't a part of his plan. It would not do.
He took it upon himself to make sure that Dante and Charlotte remained at arm's length It was simple, really. In the end, all he'd had to do was send Dante on a late-night job and Charlotte had come asking where he'd gone. He'd taken it upon himself to inform her of Dante's old habits, playing up his reputation with the ladies and suggesting that he was out at some club. He acted shocked when Charlotte's face fell and she muttered that she hadn't known, gave her a sad smile, and reassured her that he was always there for her if she needed someone to talk to.
He almost felt bad about it. Almost. Especially given how his brother seemed to harbor the same growing feelings as Charlotte.
Used to easy women and the club scene, Dante had initially looked upon Charlie's long legs and petit frame with hunger, but as he got to know her better – spending many a long night in her workshop to upgrade his ever-growing arsenal – he learned to appreciate her for who she really was. She was sassy and funny and laidback, and when his jokes got crude, she turned the most delicious shade of pink.
He liked her too much. Every time he saw her, each time their fingers brushed when he passed her tools, he felt those feelings grow. It scared him, but try as he might, he couldn't stay away.
It all came to a head one day when Vergil called Dante into his office.
"What's so important that you needed to wake me up?"
"It's nearly noon."
"Yeah, whatever."
Vergil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His brother would sleep until noon. He'd probably sleep all day if left to his own devices. "It's about Charlotte."
"Charlie? Look, if it's about that thing the other night in the workshop, I can fix it. The hole isn't that big, and it wasn't even her fault, so –."
"What? No."
"Oh."
"It's just that I've noticed the two of you have become rather… close."
"Close?"
"Yes. Close. And I don't want you to take this the wrong way, brother, I'm happy to see that you've made friends…"
Dante could feel the 'but' coming.
"…but I believe that it would be for the best if you and Charlotte stopped spending quite so much time together."
So much time together? "Uh, hate to break it to you, bro, but we all live together."
"Yes, I know that." Vergil waved dismissively, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "And the two of you have gone on your fair share of jobs together, it can't be helped, but I worry that your feelings aren't exactly… appropriate."
"And who the fuck are you to say what is and isn't appropriate? You can't just control who Charlie does and doesn't hang out with, it's not like you're her boyfriend or anything."
"Not yet, no."
"What?"
Vergil smirked, that had certainly caught Dante off guard. "It's only a matter of time, really," he mused. "All those years in college where we only had each other. Building The Order together. The fact that we're Nephilim. We were mean to be."
"But you don't lo-," Dante choked on the word, covering it with a half-assed cough. "You don't even like her like that."
Vergil laughed as his brother's near-confession. "Together, we will be unstoppable. We'll finally be strong enough to right the injustices that Mundus has inflicted upon this world. To avenge our parents." He reached out to rest a hand upon Dante's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, he still needed Dante by his side, after all. "Love is a human affliction, Dante. Best rid yourself of it, lest you get yourself hurt."
Dante shook Vergil's hand from his shoulder and stalked off. He couldn't believe that he got out of bed for that, and on his day off, no less. But in the back of his mind, Vergil's words stuck. They grew louder and louder, until –
"Dante?"
Charlie.
"Don't you have the day off? What are you doing up?"
"I… couldn't sleep?"
Her brow furrowed as she stepped forward, crowding against him to press the inside of her wrist to his forehead. "Couldn't sleep? You sure you're feeling okay?"
Dante waved her off, a smile stretching across his lips at her teasing. "I'm fine, just couldn't sleep."
"Riiiight."
Did he really sleep that much?
"Well, as long as you're up," a smile split Charlie's face and her eyes lit up, "I've been dying to get my hands on that scythe. Stop by my office?"
"I thought you wanted to take a look at the girls."
"¿Por qué no los dos?"
"What?"
Charlie laughed – a light chuckle laced with amusement that tugged her pouty lips into a grin, her eyes crinkling at the corners. He liked it when she laughed. "Bring both, dumbass."
A handful of hours slipped by as they tinkered away in Charlie's corner of the workshop. There wasn't much that she could do to Osiris, much to her chagrin, but she'd be damned if she didn't figure out how Ebony and Ivory could fire without reloading. She refused to believe that it was just demonic mojo.
They parted, as always, too early for either of their liking, Dante to do a sweep of the area surrounding headquarters, and Charlie to attend her other duties as a co-founder of The Order.
/ / / / / \ \ \ \ \
The sun had just begun to set when Dante finished his rounds. He ducked beneath the broken garage door and waved his way through the secret entrance, reeking of demon goo and in desperate need of a shower. Instincts still buzzing, he reached out and caught someone about the shoulders, holding them at a distance before they could collide.
Charlie.
Momentarily stunned by her appearance, all he could do was stare. She was wearing nice clothes – really nice, tailored clothes, not her usual getup –, her usually messy hair tamed into a full braid, and… was she wearing makeup? He sucked in a deep breath and became wrapped in the sweet floral, fruity scent of her perfume.
"What's with the fancy getup? You got an interview or something?"
"Oh stop! You know I would never leave you guys. Besides, you couldn't find your way out of a paper bag without me, let alone take down Mundus," Charlie guffawed, hitting his shoulder. "I was just about to head out with Vergil."
His stomach dropped. "Vergil?"
"Yeah," Charlie smiled. "There's this new restaurant downtown that just opened up and I've been dying to check it out, so Vergil made a reservation."
"A reservation, huh? Sounds fancy."
"It's just been so long since we've been able to hang out without worrying about work, you know? It'll be nice. Like old times."
His heart leapt into his throat and for a second he was convinced that he would be sick. Vergil was right. It was just a matter of time.
"Ready to go, Charlotte?"
Speak of the devil and he will appear.
"Almost." She turned back to Dante with a smug smile before plucking the hat from Vergil's head and tossing it back down the hall from whence it came.
"Hey!"
"I don't understand why you insist on wearing that stupid fedora."
"It's not a fedora, it's -."
"It's dreadful," Charlie laughed while Vergil led her away with a hand on her lowering back, shooting Dante a cool smirk when he – ever the gentleman – held the door open for his date.
"Night, Dante!"
"Yes. Goodnight, brother."
Fuck.
/ / / / / \ \ \ \ \
Dinner was just what Charlie had needed, and – she speculated as she tried to hid her smile behind a glass of wine – Vergil had needed it too. They spent the evening eating delicious food, sipping expensive wine, laughing at inside jokes, and reminiscing on the past. The future was a tomorrow-problem. It was the most carefree that Charlie had seen Vergil in a long time. Years.
As their conversation lulled, their waiter arrived with a dessert menu.
"Oh, no. I can't."
"Come on, Charlotte. When have you ever been one to say 'no' to chocolate cake?" Then turning to the waiter, "We'll split one."
Charlie acquiesced and gave Vergil a toothy smile. God help her if the demons ever discovered her weakness for chocolate, but cake did sound like a nice way to end the evening.
"Special occasion?"
"Every occasion I spend with Charlotte is special," Vergil answered, his smile charming.
Charlie chuckled as the waiter retreated. "It's been a while since we hung out just the two of us, hasn't it?"
"Too long. I do apologize, work has been… a lot, lately."
Charlie knew how work was. They were busy, and many things took precedence over going out to dinner and catching up. Lives hung in the balance; she was glad that they'd managed to find any time at all between their all-nighters spent programming, collecting intel, and running jobs.
"But I promise that moving forward, I'll always make time for us."
It was a curious thing to say, but Vergil was a rather curious man.
With a contented sigh, Charlie let her gaze drift from Vergil to the room, fully taking it in. The lights were low, each table illuminated by the warm, flickering glow of a single candle. The conversations buzzing around them low, intimate – a giggle here or there and the gentle clink of wine glasses.
The waiter arrived with their dessert; a decadent slice of heaven with two spoons.
"Enjoy."
Suddenly, it clicked.
The reservation, the price of the food, the clothes, the intimate atmosphere, the expensive wine, the night off. 'I'll always make time for us.' Two spoons.
She sat up straight, eyes wide as she stared across the table.
"What is it?" Vergil met her gaze, then having connected the dots, let out a warm chuckle. He reached over the table to take her hand in his own gloved one, tenderly rubbing up and down the back of her thumb with his own. "I've been thinking, Charlotte. Isn't it time that we stop dancing about and move forward with this relationship?"
"What?"
"Surely you've noticed." Vergil gave her hand a light squeeze. "All those nights studying together, building our business side-by-side. Everything right down to who we are, we were meant to be, Charlotte."
Unable to meet his gaze, she cast her eyes down and pushed back her chair, the wooden scrape loud enough to interrupt the happy couples at the neighboring tables. "I-… I'm sorry. I have to go."
Charlie left Vergil at the restaurant with the car, drawn further and further into the city as if by a string. The night had started out so well, just two friends unwinding over food and drink. Never in a million years would she have thought that Vergil would ask her out. If only she had known that that's what this was mean to be. A date.
A date with the wrong brother.
Eventually, she stopped in front of a club. The bouncer barely gave her a second glance, stamping her hand and opening the door to spill bass out onto the street. Charlie absently rubbed the ink on the back of her hand and ventured into the club. It was all so loud. Bodies swayed, drinks spilled, lights flashed. She felt self-conscious – a single overdressed drop in a sea of debauchery and neon – but still she waded through the crowd, until she saw him. He was in a booth towards the back of the club, surrounded by beautiful women and clearly drinking his fill.
So, Vergil hadn't been lying about Dante's reputation with the ladies. Of course not. Why would he lie? He was still her friend after all, wasn't he?
/ / / / / \ \ \ \ \
Dante left The Order not long after Vergil escorted Charlie out on their date. He couldn't stand the thought of being there when they would get back – all smiles and giggles and cutesy, couple-y bullshit – so he left. The club he landed in was nothing special, just one of the many that dotted Limbo City. He sat at the bar and tossed back a couple beers while he waited for the crowd to filter in, ready to drown his sorrows in booze and cheap women, but he felt numb beneath the flashing lights.
He was about one drink-to-tipsy and surrounded by a group of rave-sluts who were just not doing it for him when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and there she was, bright lights reflecting off of blonde hair once neatly pulled into a plait but now falling out to frame her angelic face.
Charlie.
Dante abandoned his drink, ignoring the indignant squawking of his seat-mates as he pushed his way out of the booth.
Charlie squeezed her eyes shut the moment that they connected with Dante's across the room, the electric shock enough to bring her back to earth. What was she even doing there? Showing up to a club in the middle of the night in the hopes that, what? She hadn't even known that Dante would be there; not for certain.
"Charlie!"
She turned to leave, but Dante was already making his way towards her.
"Hey, Charlie! Wait up!"
The crowd was harder to fight this time as she pushed her way back towards the bouncer. The club was too small, she needed fresh air, some time to herself, to-
"What are you doing here?" Dante asked. He was a blank slate. Unreadable. "What happened to your date?"
"So, you know it was a date, then?" Why hadn't he said anything?
"You didn't?"
Charlie stood there, playing with her coat sleeves and unable to say anything in her defense. She hadn't known that it was a date, but looking back, she wondered how she could have missed the signs. Finally, she shook her head 'no.'
Silence stretched between them. Well, as much silence as can be afforded in a club.
"He doesn't love you; you know."
"What?" She tilted her head up to look into Dante's honest grey-blue eyes.
"He's… He just." He reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Love is a human affliction, Dante. "He only wants you because of what you are – what we all are – and it's…" wrong, selfish, you deserve better. He trailed off.
They stared deep into each other's eyes and the chaos around them melted away. They were there. Together. Nothing else mattered.
"Do you want to get coffee sometime?" Charlie blurted out before she could stop herself.
"What?" Dante yelled over the bass. "I can't hear you!"
Standing on her tiptoes, Charlie leaned in toward Dante's ear and asked again – louder this time.
Instead of answering, Dante placed a hand on the small of her pack, pulling her into him while his other hand lighting grasped her chin and tilted it up. His lips were against her but for a moment. A firm, shy press that left Charlie breathless. He leaned in again, more sure of himself. Time stopped when his lips met hers, and the fluttery feeling between them only intensified. Charlie's heart pounded in her chest as her knees grew weak. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth and how addictively he invaded all of her senses.
"Coffee sounds good."