Wrong Way

It was the middle of the night. About three in the morning. Regan was asleep in the hotel room, which was nice. It was adjacent to the room in which Marvin was sleeping in, and Regan had woken up because she thought she'd heard an odd noise, like someone calling her name, but she wasn't too sure. Deciding it had just been a dream, she realized that Evelyn wasn't there, and she got up and went to the door of Marvin's room. Opening it quietly, she peered in, seeing the man asleep, Evelyn on his opposite side, and she could only wonder why the little girl had moved in the middle of the night like that.

Regan pursed her lips to the side and shut the door, moving to the balcony and opening the door, stepping outside after throwing her robe on which had been laying across the back of the sofa in the room. Putting her bedroom slippers on once the door was open, she walked out, and looked over the city from what she could see of it, all of the blinking lights, the bridge in the distance over the water. It was a clear night, the moon was a bright crescent in the sky, and everything seemed to be peaceful actually, except for the honking horns and sirens in the distance. But even those sounds weren't intrusive.

Her thoughts went back to Evelyn, and Regan wondered if the little girl felt closer to Marvin than to her own aunt. But why wouldn't she? She'd only known Regan a few days longer, and in that time, since she'd known Regan, hell, the very day she'd met Regan, her father had been killed. Maybe Regan had been selfish somehow, too worried about herself to pay attention to Evelyn. Who was to say, that was, of course, unless Regan asked, which she didn't think she could.

She leaned down on her forearms, watching the night sky, unable to see many shooting stars because of the lights in the city before her, and she just thought to herself about everything. She'd made plans to go back to Devil May Cry in the morning just to get Dante's phone number incase she needed him, and wondered if Dante would try to throw that in her face about wanting to see him as well. But she was also going to go run other errands too, so hopefully her quick dismissal would put him in his place.

It was cold though, and Regan decided to go back in. As she did, she saw Demoncaller sitting there on the table, had been looking at it earlier while Evelyn was asleep, then gone to bed herself, and she gripped the handle and tilted her head as she examined it. She hadn't said anything, but it was strange that she could feel some kind of power emanating from the blade, and wondered if all of these types of demonic weapons did that.

She then drew the blade up slowly and ran her free fingers down and across the hilt, attempting to turn the blade in fashions that would allow her to see how the weapon felt to be moved about with her person. The blade seemed to be somewhat lightweight but still heavy enough to cause some good damage if it was used right, and as she moved, she somehow felt as if she could see herself learning to do more of it, and she wasn't sure how, she just felt that way.

But she suddenly heard her name and she gasped, turning around, the blade swinging with her. She almost dropped it, managing to keep her fingers around the handle, and being the only weapon she had, cursing herself for having not pulled out her magnum instead, she tightened her grip to use the blade as a defense if push came to shove. The voice that had said her name had been somewhat low, drawn out, and demonic she couldn't help but noticing. What or who'd said it, though, she had no clue.

Moving closer to the balcony doors, Demoncaller still in her hands, held up at a good angle, she looked outside, beyond the glass balcony doors of her hotel room. Suddenly, she gasped and made a slight yell as something landed in front of her on the balcony, but stopped herself when she realized that the object which had landed there was just Dante, and she didn't want to wake her room mates up.

Regan took a deep breath, putting her hand over her now hard thumping heart, and she grabbed the handle of the door and opened it. "What are you doing here?" She asked with narrowed brows.

Dante lifted his own brow, looking her over and shaking his head, telling her, "First of all, you were holding it all wrong. Second, I thought I'd come by to see you because of that note you left me."

"What note?"

"The one in my office under my phone." He walked into the hotel room and shut the door, then looked over at her as she sat the sword back down onto the table.

"Oh," Regan remembered, having left him a note just before she'd gone to the hotel about his number to let him know she'd be back by later for it. Looking over at him, she nodded, "Well, I couldn't find you after you went upstairs. Where'd you go?"

Dante shrugged, "I was too wired to crash, besides, I thought a couple rounds at the bar would be nice."

"With your sword?" She asked him, smirking a bit knowlingly.

"Never know," he pointed out to her, "might've gotten attacked along the way. It's happened before. And what about you? Just some late night home run practice?"

"Huh?" Regan asked, looking confused.

"You were holding it like a baseball bat," he motioned to Demoncaller.

Regan glanced at the sword, and then she smirked and squeezed her eyes shut. "You know," she started, turning her head back in his direction, "I thought I heard something calling my name just a few minutes before you jumped onto the balcony. Speaking of which, where the hell did you come from?"

"The roof," he replied, smirking over it, and asking her, "What did you hear?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "but I thought I heard the same thing when I woke up too. Just this low 'Reeegaaan'," she mimicked it on a low voice, "any ideas?"

Demons, Dante decided, but didn't mention it, "Maybe if you do that voice again."

"No," Regan grinned, "you're just looking for a reason to pick at me."

"I've got plenty of reason to pick at you already," he told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to himself, letting his mouth cover hers, kissing her thoroughly, his tongue snaking into her mouth slowly, rubbing hers with it. Regan's eyes closed and she snaked her arms around him, returning the kiss he was giving her, breathing deeply into it with her newfound blush. Did he really have to feel so warm and good all over?

It lasted for several moments before he pulled back, Dante taking a breath and then glancing down at her, watching her for a moment, telling her, "Like the way you breath so hard when all I do is kiss you."

"I can't help it," she replied, "you're just a damned good kisser and we haven't kissed like that since...," she trailed off.

Dante pulled her fully up against him, lifting her off of the floor, moving over to the bed, finishing her statement for her at the same time. "Since we fucked?"

Her blush grew. Nodding her head, she leaned up herself and kissed him once more, felt him tilting her back across the bed, which caused her to pull her lips away and turn her head. That didn't prevent Dante from kissing her throat though. "Dante," she said, "stop...," she was trailing because he was sucking against her throat and then her ear, which was making her dizzy," stop...Marvin...and..."

"Somehow I don't think Marvin would be interested in a three way."

The words snapped her back to reality like a glass of cold water to the face. "Pervert," she muttered, "no, him and Evelyn are in the next room."

"You think you're gonna scream?" He asked with a lascivious grin, tugging on the tie of her robe, opening it.

"Dante," she whispered loudly, grabbing his hands, "would you just behave?"

Dante smirked, then he rolled off of her, but pulled her with him, sitting against the headboard of the bed with her on his lap, asking her, "If you want, we can always go back to my place. I can have ya back here before sunup."

Regan was shaking her head already, but there was a little smile plastered on her lips about the whole thing. "You're shameless. No, I feel guilty enough already."

"About what?"

"Evelyn," she told him, "I don't think she likes me very much. I feel like I've been deserting her."

"Of course she likes you, she's always grabbing your leg or holding your hand, mine too for that matter, and most kids hate me."

Regan snorted, thinking of what he called the Brat Brigade, and she leaned her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I don't know. She just seems friendlier with Marvin than with me, like she's always so thrilled to see him. She even went into his room while I was asleep and laid down."

"Well she's used to a man," Dante told her, "she didn't have a mother, so she probably feels more comfortable with Marvin."

Regan lifted her head up and looked at him. It made sense. She nodded, smiling, then told him, "I guess you're right. Not to mention he lost his family, so I suppose they just suit each other well."

Dante gave Regan an arrogant little smirk as if to say 'told ya so' which made her grumble a bit and roll her eyes, and he then asked, "Feel like going to the movies?"

"Dante, it's three in the morning. I don't think they're open."

"They don't have to be," he informed her. "I know the guy who owns the place. He had a problem I helped him with and he lets me go there whenever I want."

Regan looked around in thought for a moment and drew in her breath. "I don't know, Dante. What about Evelyn and Marvin?"

"They're asleep, but if you want, I'll go wake them."

Regan smacked his upper arm, grinning, "No, stupid, I meant what if something happens?"

"I think Marvin can handle it, it's not like you guys are completely alone, there's people all over this hotel room, not to mention he survived for three days or so with his own hometown trying to kill him. They'll be fine."

Damn him and his actual sense of logic he only used when it suited him. Regan was trying her damnedest not to smile, but she was failing miserably. In all honesty she was actually excited at the prospect of going out somewhere with him again, like they had when they were riding the horse in the snow, remembering the ridiculous songs they'd come up with. "Alright, then what's on the menu for a movie?"

"Well, he has this old zombie flick I haven't seen in a while that I used to watch as a kid, it's horrible."

"Horrible as in horror, or just horribly funny?"

"Horribly funny," he smirked mischievously. "Both if you wanna be technical about it. Scared me when I was a kid though."

Regan smiled, the thought of him being scared of anything somehow being very amusing to her. But it reminded her of his humanity and that he actually did have a big heart in him, and so she pushed herself up with a smile, nodding, "Alright then, let me get dressed. I won't be long."

Dante pushed himself up as well, watching her going into the bathroom where their suitcases were and shutting the door behind herself. He waited and as he did so, he walked over to the table where Demoncaller lay. It was a pretty nice Devil Arm from what he could see. As he looked the weapon over, Rebellion still on his own back from earlier, he considered what he'd done that night, heading over to Sycamore Street, finding that girl and the demon who'd been influencing her. Once he'd dispatched the demon, it's powers left the girl and caused her to become weak and pass out. Dante carried her back to her home, and handed her directly to her father because the man was outside on his front porch whenever he came walking up, Dante had to talk to him anyway in order to find out more details about the kid.

Normally he wasn't so direct about such a matter. He would have taken back alleys and the like to return her home, but he was so damned happy to have a job done and over with so quickly that he just really didn't care. When the girls father took her, he was so grateful he offered Dante anything he wanted, had the money in a suitcase for Dante ready to hand it over. But Dante knew the story, he had eyes, could see the run down house they were living in, and knew that whatever deal his daughter had made with the demon was to help her family out financially even more, telling Dante that they were in dire straights when it came to money.

Dante had told him not to worry about it, even when the man pleaded with him as he just walked off, not interested in it. The last thing Dante had told him was to keep holding onto his money in order to get them out of there, that was, if he wanted to do anything at all. From there, Dante left without another word, heading back home directly.

Once he'd gotten there though, considering he'd probably just get some sleep, Dante had found himself alone and thinking about Regan, which was his real excuse for having come to the hotel room that night. Her note, which had simply said she'd be back in the afternoon since she knew he was a night owl in order to get his phone number, had given him the perfect excuse though. He didn't want to admit that he just wanted to see her again, didn't feel like sitting at home when he'd been hanging around her so much over the past few weeks, and so he'd left again. He got a feeling he knew what it all meant, and while it scared him a little bit, he also didn't even admit to that in his own mind.

Nope, he was still the same old guy as usual.

Regan came walking back out of the bathroom in a pair of jeans, boots, and a black shirt that had long sleeves which flared out along her arms. She grabbed her thigh length jacket and started putting it on. Dante watched her somewhat quietly, thinking to himself about how pretty she was, and he rolled his eyes when he realized that, hearing her asking him, "You're awfully quiet, not changing your mind as soon as I'm dressed, are you?"

"Nah," he replied, "just thinking about how I'd rather go to my place, but you know, gotta let a girl have her way first."

Regan pursed her lips at him in a smirk. "You're a liar," she informed him, "you're just mad you didn't jump onto that balcony to find me and Lady getting it on."

And there was another thing he liked about her, Dante thought, she was saucy and witty. Smirking, he took her hand before she could head to the front door and told her, "Wrong way."

"Well apparently I'm doing everything wrong tonight. So what's the right way?"

He started heading toward the balcony. When he did, Regan blinked a few times, asking him, "You're not expecting me to jump off of the balcony with you, are you?"

"Actually, I'm expecting you to hop over onto that building over there with me. There's a fire escape that winds down the side of the building that we can use to get to the movie theater."

Regan looked over at the building he was talking about, then glancing down slowly at the road, which was about ten stories beneath them, and finally up at his face as if he were crazy, shaking her head. Dante grinned and hopped up onto the balconies railing, standing on the narrow strip of metal as if it were nothing, holding his hand out to her.

"Don't you trust me yet?"

"No," she insisted, looking back at the building, telling him, "That's a good thirty or forty feet, Dante. Can't I just try five for my first jump?"

Dante snorted in amusement and he took her hand, pulling her up there with him. She refused to look down once she was on the railing and held her arm around his back very tightly. "You've done this before, right?" Her voice was laced with uncertainty.

"Nope," he grinned, then he told her, "just hold onto me."

"Fuck," she cussed as he leaned down as if to gather some momentum for himself whenever he pushed off, and then leapt into the air high and wide. Regan decided to add her own strength to it if she could, pushing off with him, and she held onto him for dear life as they began flying through the air.

They began to descend toward the ground as they'd flown at an arc, and Regan watched the roof top nearing them, but she could already tell they were going to fall just a bit short. "Dante!," she gasped whenever she noticed this, but she suddenly grunted. She wasn't sure what had happened, having seen a flash of red beneath them, but it seemed as if Dante had just pushed himself back into the air just before they could fall any further, as if he'd landed on a platform for a moment, and then he leapt over to the rooftop safely.

Regan was wide eyed. She couldn't help herself. Turning her face up to him, she just stared blankly, not sure what to think. Dante smiled, grabbing the hilt of his sword, telling her, "Devil arms are for more than just looks, ya know?"

"No," she shook her head slowly, sounding and actually being dumbfounded, "I didn't know that." It was only then that she realized as well that he'd been carrying Demoncaller with him. Seeing it, her eyes following his hand as he lowered it again, she pointed and asked, "Why'd you bring that along?"

Looking down, Dante turned and handed it to her. "I want you to get into a habit of taking it with you."

"But, where am I going to put it?" She asked, folding her fingers around it and pulling it to her side slowly. "I don't have a nifty guitar case like you do."

"Wear a longer coat and tie it to your belt. She's not as big as Rebellion is, she'll be easy to hide."

Regan pursed her lips again with a loud sigh through her nose, looking at the sword, then giving him a bland expression, "You're still picking at me," she pointed out as they started walking. "Haha, look at the newbie."

Grinning, Dante told her, "No way, babe, though it is funny, that look you had on your face, 'Dante, oh no, we're gonna fall!'," he mocked her, grinning over it.

Regan pushed on his shoulder from behind though she was grinning, saying, "Jerk," before she followed him down the fire escape. "I can't help it, I'm scared of heights."

"You're cute when you're scared."

"Apparently I'm cute when I do anything, slick," she muttered drolly, the sounds of their footsteps clanking against the metal of the fire escape as they climbed down it.

It should prove to be an interesting, fun night.

---

The figure moved throughout the dark of the night. The alleyways were empty, littered with the trash that had overflown the dumpsters sitting there, and a few homeless passed out against the sides of the buildings, bundled up in old, dirty blankets in order to keep warm. It was a lachrymose scene that fell oblivious to the figure walking among it. As the cloaked figure passed them, ignored them, he suddenly stopped at one near the exit of the alleyway and then turned to look at him, standing statuesquely still, only the black clothe of the cloak he wore drifting in the breeze of the wind down the alley moving at all on his body. Something had caught his attention.

This one had the scent of death all around him. Such a frail being, cold, alone, dying, and no one willing to help him. This was the way of the human world. This was how they treated those they did not care for. They left them out in the dark to die like an unwanted pest. It went much the same way for things they didn't understand or care to understand as well. That was what made them easy victims. That was what made it easy for him to do what he needed to and get away with it without any interferences at all hardly. So much easier and different from what he was used to.

But the scent of death lingering around this one was somehow refreshing, familiar, and the figure stood there for several moments, simply watching the man die. The natural course of death set over his body, his breathing having come a bit erratically until it was finally exhaled thoroughly and properly, his pupils dilating to their widest circumference, and his head laid back against the cold concrete and the wall lifelessly.

The figure remained still. After the body died, it began to dissolve apart, particles of it moving in toward his form, the flesh and blood melding itself over the figures own body, meshing to form a more complete structure hidden beneath the cloak, until nothing more was left of the body but a pile of bones without a cause or a purpose. No one made a sound, no one was around, and they didn't see this event happening. Everything became silent and still once again.

The figure turned away without thought or care to the dead himself and walked to the end of the alleyway before stopping, his hood blowing back off of his head, revealing a completely hairless face that was perhaps, in a way, even androgynous, the eyes such a light silver they nearly appeared white. One the sides and back of his head were a few reddish to purplish marks, as if he still had a very short way to go in order to complete his form.

A cop car drove by quickly, its sirens wailing, and he continued to stare ahead, ignoring it. However, the sound of another vehicle could be heard just behind him, its headlights moving across the back of his body as it came to a stop, and the drivers side door opened. The police officer got out of the car, looking ahead at the man just standing at the end of the alleyway and he narrowed his brows. What the hell was this?

With a sigh, the officer walked ahead and called out, flashlight in hand, "Sir?"

The man slowly turned around and faced the person speaking to him. The police officer watched him, asked him, "I need you to evacuate the alleyway. Could you kindly move on?" The building had recently become a crime scene, and the policeman needed to set up a perimeter.

The man didn't move or speak, he didn't budge from his spot. With a sigh, the police officer wondered if he was deaf, could see the man looked strangely enough, and figured perhaps he couldn't hear or speak. "Did you hear me, sir?" He asked.

Silence, and still no movement. The bald man continued to stand there, and with a sigh, the policeman got on his radio when he heard someone signaling him, "This is unit 5, I've come across an adult male Caucasian in his early twenties, bald, about 5'9", which I'm proceeding to evacuate from the area. Over."

It was at that moment that the officer noticed the man was moving a bit, the skin of his throat seeming to roll over muscle fluidly and transforming beneath it, as if something was taking place inside of his throat that was unseen. The officer stared disbelievingly, ignoring his radio for the moment, wondering what the hell it was that he was looking at, and he continued to stand there, ready to pull his gun just incase. "Sir? Are you alright?"

The man moved forward just a bit, opening his mouth as clicking and popping sounds came from his throat, like some kind of animal might make in the wild, but a word began to form with the sounds, turning slowly into, "Si-si-si-sir."

"Holy fuck," the policeman exclaimed softly and slowly.

"Ho-ho-holy fu-u-u-uck-k-k," came the mimicking reply. "Sir, holy fuck."

The officer had, of course, never seen anything like this before in his entire life. About to tell the man to just stay where he was so that he could request someone to come and take him off to get him help, he suddenly spied a pile of bones against the wall in the alleyway, just like the reports had described of what was inside the building. In a moments notice, the police officer somehow got the feeling that this man probably had something to do with it, and he grabbed his gun and aimed in the figures direction, telling him, "Alright, freeze, put your hands up!"

"Alright, freeze, put your hands up," came the males soft voice, sounding much more human than it had just a moment ago. He then began walking away, repeating phrases and words he'd just heard from the officer that weren't in order and made no sense, but the policeman wasn't done with him yet of course. Lifting his radio, he began to request back up, but was interrupted when he saw a long centipede crawling out of the suspects ear, and around the back of his neck, into his cloak.

"Just get them the fuck over here, hurry!" The policeman put his radio back onto his belt and then he yelled at the individual, "I said freeze, or I will shoot you!"

The figure just continued on however, around the corner, and the officer pulled the trigger, hitting the corner of the building where the man had just been. He could see the mans body stumbling forward, and he ran towards the corner and around it, looking down the sidewalk, but no one was in sight. Glancing down, the officer overlooked the area where the body should have been, where it should have fallen to after he'd shot the cloaked man, but there was nothing there, only a few spiders and worms laying on the ground, crawling in different directions.

---

It was completely terrible. The zombie movie was so bad it was definitely more of a comedy than a horror film. But it was an older movie, black and white, so chances stood it was only a comedy by today's standards. Regan knew that, but she still couldn't help but laugh at it.

When the movie had started, Regan got a pre-show from Dante, who'd hopped up onto the stage before starting the reel, and began giving a long speech about the horrors the movie might contain and that young children shouldn't be in the audience. When he'd said that, Regan laughed and yelled 'I guess you should leave then', and Dante just took a dramatic bow and then moved to the back, went up into the booth, and started running the reel.

When he'd sat back down next to Regan, holding the popcorn he'd popped in the machine, she couldn't help but ask him if he'd cut a hole into the bottom of the barrel, and just to make sure he hadn't, she kept the thing resting on the arm of the chair between them, grinning at him when he told her she was a spoil sport.

The entire event had been completely enjoyable for her, and she was glad she'd decided to come along. It was nice to just be out and about without reason or cause, just enjoying herself, and it was very nice to have been out with Dante for no other reason than she'd wanted to be.

Once the movie had ended, and they'd left the theater, it was about four fifteen in the morning, and Regan found herself walking through the park with Dante next to her. She felt a little odd - somehow a park didn't seem to be his thing really - but it was on the way for them to make it back to the hotel, at least, without roof hopping as they'd done before anyway, and Regan thought it was nicer out there than she'd expected it to be. Trees and grass, not buildings and concrete, and some of the trees about still had leaves on them which were changing colors now due to the autumn time of the year.

"So," she started, "those were the kind of movies you grew up on, huh?"

Dante was smirking, "Well, that and the usual, Wizard of Oz, Old Yeller, things like that."

"Old Yeller?" Regan chuckled, "That's such a sappy movie."

"I know," Dante replied, reaching up for a low laying branch and ducking just a bit as he stepped under it. "So, you gonna regret being up so late tomorrow?"

He'd only asked because she'd put her hand over her mouth and yawned. Smiling, she shook her head no, telling him, "I'll be okay. Marvin will probably wake up early and let me sleep in just a bit. I hope he doesn't mind anyway." She stopped walking when she saw a swing set and she decided to pick up on Dante's sporadic habits, grabbed his hand and suddenly tugged him toward the childrens play place.

Dante blinked, looking up to see where she was suddenly going, and when he spied the swing set, he smirked, stopping with her. "Hell yeah, I haven't been on a swing in a while."

"You don't look like the type who ever did swing," she grinned, sitting down in one of the bendable seats.

"Well, I liked that spinning metal wheel thing the best."

"I can see that actually," she smirked, swinging just a little bit, watching him just sit there for a moment. "What the hell are those things called? I always think of the term lazy Susan. I think it's because of those things you find on dinner tables that spin around with the food in them."

"No idea what you're talking about, cupcake, but I guess that's as good a name as any."

The endearments were apparently unending. Just when she'd thought he'd called her everything in the book, he came up with a completely new one she hadn't heard yet. Shaking her head at him over it, she pushed herself back further and swung forward faster and higher, smiling as she asked, "So, I wanna know something. Were you planning on giving me any lessons?"

"Lessons?" He asked, just watching her swing.

"Yeah," she looked over at him, "I mean with a sword. Otherwise I'm going to end up swinging a baseball bat, right?"

"Oh, that," he smirked, "I'd thought about it, but I'm honestly not the best teacher. I don't have the patience."

Regan sighed when he told her that. She really had no idea how the hell she was going to learn how to fight with the damned thing, but she did know it'd be useful considering what she'd seen so far. "Can you at least give me some pointers?"

Dante reached up and scratched the back of his head, thinking about it. "Probably could," he pushed himself up and reached out as she swung backwards in the swing past him at just the right time, snatching her off of the swing. Regan gasped when he did that, her momentum letting him swing her around in a circle until she settled onto her feet, and she stared up at him blankly for a moment. It was a good time for a kiss it felt like, but this was a bit different than the sporadic events back at the ranch when they'd slept together, it seemed much more personal now, and so she hesitated.

Dante didn't though, pulled her in closer and let his mouth descend to hers, and once he had, she reacted in kind, meeting him halfway and letting her arms snake around him again. She found her fingers moving up and into the back of his hair, the kiss becoming fairly breathless quickly as their mouths intertwined with one another, forgetting the reason they were there to begin with.

To both of them it felt good, and it felt right in some way neither of them had experienced before. It'd felt right at the Ranch too. Maybe it was in both of their persons though, but they just simply hadn't spoken of it with one another yet. But damned if either one of them wanted to stop now and speak of it either.

Regan felt herself becoming breathless, and she tugged her lips away from his gently, saying between his continued kisses, "We'd...better...stop."

"Why?" He asked, kissing her once more and pulling her in so close that he crushed her body against his.

She groaned her reaction and returned a much more thorough kiss, then spoke, "Because...if we don't...I won't...want to."

"Good," Dante told her, lifting her up and turning her so that her back was against a tree. The result was a gasp on her part, and she opened her eyes and stared at him as they continued to kiss. He didn't really want to do something out here, did he? A cop could walk by or something.

"Dante," she murmured as his lips left hers and he started kissing down the side of her neck, "we can't, not out here." She gripped his trench coat more tightly when he cupped and kneaded her breast in his large hand.

"Then I'm taking you back to the shop."

He could feel her tense up, but she let a soft moan as he moved in closer, parting her legs wider around his thighs and his red leather pants. As her crotch came into contact with his, even if it was an indirect contact, she could still feel the heat flooding through her, making her throb in anticipation. She wanted to give in, turn her head, and kiss him with as much skill as she could muster, but she reached up her arms and pushed at him instead, telling him, "Please, just wait."

"Gettin' tired of waitin'," he informed her, groaning as he found a bit of control and stopped for her sakes. Pushing himself back, his arms on the tree trunk by either side of her head, he took a deep breath in order to contain himself, and Regan stared up at him for a moment, knew how badly they both wanted to give in to instinct, but she would rather have somewhere more private to go to first.

"I'm sorry, Dante," she told him, giving him a look that said she felt sympathetic, "I'm just not comfortable being out here."

Still trying to get himself contained, finally feeling a bit more comfortable as he took a deep breath after she'd spoke her words to him, he started "Well," and pushed himself away from the tree, taking her hand and beginning to walk, "then Devil May Cry it is."

"What?" She narrowed her brows, walking along with him. "No, I have to go back to the hotel."

"You can later."

"Dante, later Marvin might be awake and wondering where I am. It's not exactly like I left him a note or anything. I can't just dump them."

Dante took a deep breath for patience. This was gonna be a lot more frustrating than he'd thought. He knew she was right, she couldn't just dump Marvin and Evelyn to go off and fuck, but damned if he could say he didn't want her to. Stopping, he turned and looked down at her, not a half a foot from her, and he told her, "I'm not asking you to stay with me. I'd like to, but I know it ain't gonna happen."

Regan stared up at him, brows narrowed, and she couldn't help but ask him, "You'd like to? So are you saying you just wanna have me around so I can spread my legs whenever you want me to?"

"No," Dante rolled his eyes, turning away from her a bit, hating how women flipped men's words around on them like that. He groaned and then looked back at her, asking, "Didn't you just say you wouldn't wanna stop? You're just as interested in it as I am. It's just frustrating."

"Then you're saying my having an obligation to a child is frustrating."

"Yes," he told her flat out, was a bit too riled anymore to care how angry she got at him. "It's a fucking pain in the ass, or the dick, especially in this case."

"A pain in the dick?," she asked him, pulling her hand away, "Wouldn't you call that a headache, Dante Sparda? Cause I think that's what you use to think with."

She started walking away from him, but damned if Dante was going to let it end on that note. He reached out and grabbed her arm, turning her around to face him, holding onto her wrist to make sure she couldn't get away from him. Regan spun around and glared up at him with a fire in her green eyes that almost made them look amber.

"You're not gettin' away that easy, sweetheart, not thinkin' I just want you in the sack anyway."

"Isn't that all it is?" She asked him pointedly.

"Hell no, if it was, I wouldn't have bothered taking you out anywhere tonight. You act like the only thing I ever asked for was pussy, like it's the only reason I met you to begin with." He let go of her arm, taking a deep breath and groaning it out, walking past her this time. "You know what, never mind, think what you will."

Regan watched him leaving, was highly surprised by the turn of events, and she suddenly realized that maybe she had acted without thinking about it. "Dante?" She asked, but he didn't stop, and so she ran to catch up with him, the tables turning from before to the point where she took his arm in both of her hands and looked up at him, hoping he'd stop. "I'm sorry, I got scared. I've never felt like this before, and I don't know what it all means. It feels like I'm going the wrong way on a one way street almost. It's just confusing."

"You and me both," he grumbled, stopping finally to look down at her. The fire had drained from her eyes and she looked sincerely apologetic, and he didn't feel content or compelled to keep up their arguing. "We're feeling our way around in the dark apparently." His own ire hadn't been all that bad to begin with, but he had been annoyed.

Regan nodded in agreement with his words. "Yeah, the power went out I suppose," she looked down with a bit of shame over it. Then, apparently, both their minds went along the same lines, and Regan spoked before he could, "Bet you wanna do that in real life, huh?"

"Beat me to the punch line," he smiled again finally. "Alright, I'm taking you back to the hotel room tonight."

"Okay, but tomorrow evening, I'm coming back to the shop. Is that a deal?"

"Sounds like it."

"Good," she grinned, glad they'd come to a compromise on the issue. At least they could agree on some things, and not continue to bicker over them like fussy little children. Though she still held firm in her belief that he was partly a child, the thought continuing her smile at him. He would have probably agreed with her. But Regan pushed the thoughts from her head. She then slyly slipped her arm around his back in a cheesy fashion she knew he could appreciate, "So, you're never going to get around to showing me any kind of swordplay, are you? You really are a shitty teacher."

Dante just chuckled over the words as they left the park together, didn't mind placing his own arm over her shoulders. It was nice after all, to not be alone, to be able to do things the wrong way and then fix them without much trouble.

Come to think of it, it seemed like everyone was all heading the wrong way down a one way street sometimes. It didn't surprise him considering the state of the world. With that thought in mind, he took Regan home.