A/N: This is just a note to let everyone know two things. First off, I'm sorry for the long ass time it's taken to update this story, but life has a funny way of distracting you completely from the shit you'd rather be doing lol. The second thing is this, and this is important...

I had to write this chapter THREE TIMES. The first time because my word program froze and I lost the entire story, the second because I had to reformat my harddrive, and I can't even remember why I had to rewrite it the third time.

That being said, this chapter isn't as long as was previous intended. I might be able to rewrite something with ease, twice if I'm in a patient mood, but THREE TIMES! I'll just say that the motivation to get everything in this chapter spotlessly clean died during round two, and this time around, I did my damnedest to make sure the point was gotten across and nothing more. That being said, if you find a lack of description or length in this chapter as compared to the other ones, then please feel free to complain, but at least you'll know why LoL xD!

Thanks to everyone for reading, and sorry for the irritating author's note lol! Game on!

-GieGie

Differing Similarities

The lights at Devil May Cry were out. Past midnight, and knowing that Dante could be a night owl, Regan wondered if he had left or if he might been there and awake. Maybe he'd just turned the lights out because he was closed for business.

Whatever the reason for the unlit, lonely looking building, she wasn't exactly sure which she'd rather be the case.

But either way it went, she pushed the doors open and let them shut behind her, looking around the empty office area quietly. The ceiling fan was turning languidly, casting twisting shadows over the only lit areas of the office that came from the streetlight outside of the building in the distance, the shadows rolling over the furniture and the pool table in a manner that made the place seem almost deserted. With a sigh, Regan moved toward the couch settled near the stairs and dropped down onto it with a soft squeak of the cushion beneath her.

You're demonic now. She knew this, but the situation hadn't really hit home until that evening. She wasn't just human anymore, and likely, she could be stuck this way for the rest of her life. Looking down, she saw Demoncaller's hilt resting against her hand, the tip against the floor, still covered with dried blood, and she let out a soft breath.

Would this sword end up becoming an appendage?

The fight had proven to her that she had no choice. She would have to fight, or face an existence she didn't want. There was no way to stop it, and nothing to be done about it. It was completely overwhelming, and she couldn't wrap her head around it. Even though she'd known this all along, she just wasn't comfortable anymore. She felt weary in her own skin, like it wasn't hers. She'd changed, she wasn't the same, and she could only wonder how she was supposed to fit in now? How did she get by from day to day being so different?

Dante was different too. Somehow, the events of the evening gave her an entirely new perspective on his person, on the reasons why he was the way he was. He'd been different his entire life, and apparently, had to suffer on top of that because of the infamous figure his father had become. But if there was anyone around that could understand what she was going through, he'd likely be the person.

She wanted to ask him so many questions, but at the same time, she didn't want to say anything at all. She just wanted to rest, go back to her hotel room and go to sleep, so maybe she'd awaken in the morning and none of this would have ever happened. She wasn't even sure what she would call herself now. Demoness? The Gateway? A rancher formerly known as a human?

A sigh parted her lips, her green eyes rolled, and she settled Demoncaller against the couch to rest there, remembering how Dante had told her to always take it with her. He'd been right - she'd needed it tonight. The thought proved to her that, like she'd considered before, he would understand what she was going through, and held several answers to questions she wanted to ask, but also didn't want to bother him with.

The only reason she was here now at all was because of her current condition. Dried blood marred her face, knotted up in her red hair, and her clothing was disheveled and dirty. She couldn't go back to the hotel room with Marvin and Evelyn there and possibly spook them both, especially not Evelyn. She also needed to tell Dante that she'd taken the creepy guy out. Whether this was all over or not she had no idea, but she could at least relay the information to him. He needed to know after all.

With that determination in mind, she stood up to traverse the stairs.

Dante wasn't asleep. Instead, he was laying in his bed with his arms up behind his head, locks of white covering his eyes, thinking about what Pearce had told him at Love Planet. Somehow he got the feeling that Arias would be coming to see him in the next few days in order to form some kind of truce, or perhaps Arias's ploys were going to be a little more colorful. Who knew? But one thing Dante did know was that he wouldn't kill Arias the next time he saw him. After all, the illusionist might prove to be useful in taking out a few threats before anything else could happen.

But those thoughts had eventually fled his mind. Regan popped into his head, and he opened his eyes to glance at the time. Fifteen til one in the morning. He knew Lady couldn't be keeping her out for that long shopping for clothing if only because the clothing stores didn't - and if they did, they shouldn't - stay open that long. Dante liked his fashion too, but women took it to a whole new level that his male brain couldn't comprehend.

He had the mind to go check on her and find out what the hell had happened. She might have had reservations about, as she'd put it, ditching Marvin and Evelyn in order to come and hang out with him - or sleep with him - but she wouldn't just stand him up, not with everything going on. And if she had just stood him up, he was going to have a thing or two to say to her about it.

Dante knew his luck with women wasn't the shiniest in the book, but standing someone up was just fucking rude.

It was when he had that thought that he heard footsteps coming from outside of his door, and he glanced over, guessing he wasn't stood up after all. When her silhouette appeared on the other side of the frosted glass window framed in his door, he listened to the knob turning and then the door opening, wondering to himself what she would say to explain where she'd been.

The room was dark, only the light from a neon sign that read "Budwiener" cast any light and it wasn't much, red and blue streaks across various surfaces glowing slightly, including across the white haired hunter's face. Seeing her standing in the doorway, shadowed out because of the door itself, Dante asked, "What took ya so long?"

"Sorry, I just wanted to let you know I ran into that creepy guy Imp warned us about, The Vicar. That's what he called himself."

She looked over his shirtless form laying there, deciding that she couldn't be more confident in her decision not to stick around considering how filthy she felt and how badly she actually did want to stay just because it would be the best distraction ever. But he would likely turn his nose up at her because who the hell wanted a woman covered in blood and gore?

"I wanted to let you know I managed to handle him," she went on without missing any beats. "But I'm a little tired, so I think I'm going to–"

The lamp settled next to the bed turned on, and Regan squinted, her eyes having adjusted to the darkness. Before she could say anything else - or even see that he'd stood up - she heard him drawing out, "Fucking hell, Regan, you must have done a little more than handle him."

"I know, but I'm–"

"The hell you're leaving," he said, knowing where she was going with her words as he took her wrist. "I'm gettin' tired of you running off all the fucking time."

"I know, but," she repeated, then blinked when he drug her along. "I'm filthy Dante. And I'm not really in the mood to be social." Liar.

Dante began pulling her along toward his stairs to go down them. As he went, he said, "I know what you're in the mood for. Killing someone, whoever you can find, that did this to you. And who said I wanted to be social?"

Regan blinked at his odd moment of perception there, and as they reached the landing at the bottom of the steps and he started heading into the back of his shop, she asked, "How'd you guess that?"

"I didn't have to guess, I can see it in your eyes. Whatever happened to you got your fighting instinct going, and now you think that a night of laying in bed with nothing to do is gonna help it, but I'll have to say keep dreamin', sweetheart."

Great, she thought to herself, so apparently not only am I some kind of demon, but I'm a killer too. Groaning over the notion, she asked it outright, "Then you're saying I need to go out and find someone to kill?"

"Something to do in general," he corrected, coming to the darkened room of his bathroom, flipping on the light switch before he stopped at the tub and began to run the water. "Killing, fighting, drinking, anything but laying around with all of the time in the world to make yourself feel more like shit than you ever have, and apparently already do."

Regan frowned, asking, "Was I that obvious?"

Once the water had gotten warm, he turned the shower on, then stood up and turned around to face her. Shrugging, he drew out, "It's not as simple as that, nothing ever is."

Where was this side of him coming from all of a sudden? She wasn't completely sure she liked it, but at the same time, she was also glad for it. Maybe it's because he actually understands what you're going through.

When she stayed quiet, Dante reached over and tugged her coat off. She let him, and heard him grumbling, "Why the hell do I have to miss all of the action anyway. What did you do to them?"

Regan snorted, finally relaying the tale of the evening to him, and as he tugged off her shirt and tossed it to the side carelessly, she finally met his gaze. "I'm not...ever going to be the same again, am I?"

"You asking that because you triggered?"

"I what?"

"Triggered. Your demonic side went into a rage and unleashed itself. It's not the official name for it, but I thought it was pretty damned suiting."

Once she understood it was a term he'd coined for the transformation she'd experienced, Regan looked away and shrugged, "Maybe." After a moment of silent thought over the matter, she let out an exasperated breath and said, "I just don't get it. Why does this have to happen to me? I know that sounds self important, but I was born a human, not this, and I just..."

He'd simply pursed his lips as her outburst occurred and then ended with a trailed off sentence that she apparently didn't know how to end. With a slow nod, he said, "Yeah, it's rough."

Finally, Regan looked up at him again. Biting her lip, she asked, "What about you? Do you ever do that?"

"Willingly when I'm pissed enough," he told her, "and sometimes not so willingly. I'd say you'll get used to it, but who knows. But you'll probably feel better when you get a bath anyway. I know how you girls always like to be clean and pretty looking or whatever."

She finally found a small smile over that sentiment, looking down and taking her belt buckle to undo it so she could get into the shower. "I do look like shit right now."

She could see him tilting his head from the corner of her eyes as if to regard her thoroughly, and then heard him say on a somewhat amused tone, "Actually I think you look fucking sexy. Don't come across many women who can kick someone's ass and wear blood as nice as you do."

Regan's smiled grew a little bigger. "Why do you always have to say shit that makes me feel a little better?"

"Because it frustrates you when you just wanna be angry and kick shit around and I think it's funny."

"Ass," she muttered, turning her smile up at him after she'd pulled her pants off. Tossing them aside, taking up his habits in the process - because she didn't give a damn to fold or properly place her new outfit in that moment - she found him drawing her over to himself with his hand on her arm.

"Dante, I'm still dirty."

"I know," he told her, and turned her around to pull her bra off himself, followed by her panties. Once he stood again from pushing them down and off of her legs, he began to undo his own pants, and in the process, he added, "But killing two birds with one stone sounds like a good idea."

"What two birds? You look like you're clean enough."

"Not those two. You need a bath, and I was waiting for you to come back."

She bit her lip, watching him disrobe and suddenly deciding maybe staying wasn't that bad of an idea. Somehow, she could see a blinking sign over Dante's head in her mind that was pointing at him saying needed distraction here. So she turned and climbed into the shower while he peeled his pants off and left them where they were on the floor. But she stopped him from getting in by lifting her hand.

"Hold on, dirty boy, let me at least wash this shit off first. Believe me when I say that guy was disgusting to look at, let alone be covered in his gruel."

Dante grinned, watching her as she scrubbed her hands over her face just to start off, getting most of the areas clean without much fuss, also drenching her masses of red curls in the process. Regan used a bit of shampoo in them to really get the kinks out and then rinsed, letting the suds wash down over the curves of her body. Dante didn't mind watching that one damned bit. With a grin, he thought to himself I can be a very patient man.

Regan drew her hands down her arms and then went back up and over her breasts while he watched - those soft mounds bouncing back into place. He just stared at them, unable to help it. Good things come to those who wait, right? Cause I'm gonna...

He found his arm grabbed in the middle of his considerations of what he'd like to do to her, and Regan tugged on him. "Stop staring at me and get in," she drew out with a tiny grin on her face that was playful if nothing else. She knew from his expression that he'd been watching and thinking and hadn't realized he could have gotten in any time he wanted to. She was a little embarrassed by it, but she also found it humorous.

Dante's smirk never faltered, and he let her tug him in with her while saying, "I'm still going to stare at you whether I'm in the shower or not."

She drew the curtain shut just before she turned to face him and leaned up, meeting him halfway for a kiss as her hands slipped up against his chest. "Maybe, but it's better in than out. And don't crack some perverted joke, that one was too easy."

"I was just going to say that I agree," he grinned, pulling her fully against his newly wetted body in order to kiss her properly, letting his tongue meet hers with a deep stroke inside of her mouth.

The kiss didn't take long to get either of them panting a good bit, the heat their bodies created together seeming to make the hot water dousing them steam up the room even more quickly. Regan let her fingers trace across the muscle of his torso through the beads of water gathering there while Dante used one hand against her lower back to hold her closely in place while the other cupped her generously sized breasts, squeezing and palming one without hesitation.

His thumb brushed her nipple, making it stiffen completely, drawing a pleasured whimper from the back of Regan's throat. In reaction, her hands became more greedy, washing trails of water up his broad back. "This is," Regan took in a breath as the kiss broke off, "nicer than I'd thought it would be."

"I keep forgetting you haven't done these things before."

"That's not what I mean," she breathed out, turning her face to his throat to press kisses against it. "I meant, I didn't think I'd be in the mood."

Giving a shake of his head that said he couldn't understand why not, he gripped the bottom of her chin to lean in and kiss her once more, slanting his mouth again and again over hers until she sagged before he backed her up against the far wall and broke it off.

"Either way, I'm just going to have to work a bit harder to show you how good it all is. Then you'll wonder why you'd think you wouldn't be in the mood to begin with."

Taking in another breath, her head in a rush, Regan let her green eyes open and peered up at him, asking, "How hard will you have to work?"

Dante reached down and gripped her hips to hoist her up, her legs parting around his thighs. As they did, she'd slipped her hand down low to grasp his thick erection, sliding her fingers across it and listening to him groaning in response.

"I think you can see for yourself," he told her, lips against her ear, hips rocking against her fingers as she squeezed him. Running his lips along her throat, Regan felt the cap of that stiff shaft brushing between her thighs, against the slit of her sex, and she arched her back with a pleasured murmur filling the shower stalls around them.

Dante could feel her arching into him, gripping her ass in his hands more tightly in response before he drove his hips up against her. Regan jerked against the tease to her clit the movement provided. Back and forth, creating a tease of heat that made them both breathless, and restless to go further.

Regan wondered if it might hurt her again, but she almost didn't care. The slip and slide of flesh to flesh was far to distracting and, of course, tempting to ignore, to worry over a little pain or discomfort in the process of feeling something so damned good. She also didn't even care to wonder where this might all lead in the grander scheme of things. All she wanted to focus on was the here and now, and how it felt in that moment, which was completely good and right to her.

Dante had dipped his head down to find her breast, catch the tip in his lips, tugging her nipple with his teeth. When he felt her becoming more restless, the moan she let driving a hot fire through his blood to make him continue, he couldn't help but moan lowly, flick his tongue against the hardened peak.

"I want you."

Her breathlessly spoken words made him lift his head. "Yeah?"

"Don't wait, Dante," she replied, "I want it."

Dante let a little groan, seeing a more demanding side of her coming out, one that he had to wonder over. Was it her recent change of nature that was demanding this now, or was she really so heated already that she couldn't stand to wait for a little more teasing?

He released her legs and let them slip back down his thighs so that she was standing before him. Once he had, he hooked an arm behind her and slipped his hand down against her ass and to her inner thigh. "You want what, exactly?," he asked as he lifted her leg up to part them while his opposing hand snaked down past her naval and between her legs to rub against her sex.

Regan panted a little harder, clenching her fingers into his shoulder as her eyes closed. "You know what I want."

Dante let his fingers slide back and forth across the seam of her sex, pushing the pad up against her tight entrance, feeling the wetness there that he drew back to use against her budded clit. She jolted when he did that, moaned as he started to circle the swollen button, and told her, "I don't think I do, actually. You wanna be fingered, that what you're trying to say?"

"You're the lewdest, most unashamed person I've ever met," Regan gasped out accusingly, "and now you're trying to play coy?" She reached for his hip with one hand and grasped her fingers around his thick shaft with the other, stroking the length back and forth in a tight fisted squeeze a few times before she bit out, "This, Dante. I want you to fuck me."

She'd definitely spelled it out. Dante had pressed his forehead against hers, letting a low groan as waves of pleasure coursed through his body, inciting him to push his thick digit up inside of her, in and out with a slow thrust, just to feel how tight and wet she was for him already.

"All you had to do was say so, baby."

Regan was too aroused to be frustrated by his coy playfulness just then, letting a low moan when he turned and hefted her up again, finding the strength he had to do that completely attractive in that moment. She let her legs part around him eagerly, her entire body thrumming with desire as he moved between her legs, still gripping him, shivering when she heard him whispering, "Guide it, baby, put it where you want it so bad."

Regan couldn't help a little whimper, his voice a low, ragged murmur that showed he was just as ready as she was to have more than they'd gotten so far. Moving her hand, she did exactly as he'd said, pushing down until she could feel that heated cap pushing at her entrance. As it became wedged, started to stretch her open, she felt Dante's hips push forward to bury it deep inside her waiting body. Drawing her hand away from him, she was cut off from gasping by his kiss, taking the masculine groan he'd sounded deep in her mouth.

It didn't hurt, not one damned bit. Regan could only feel a stretching between her legs as he penetrated her so deeply, and it didn't bother her at all, only filled her, heated her inside to a fevered pitch. The sounds he made as he rocked his hips in a grinding motion inside of her didn't douse that heat either, only made it grow.

Regan grasped her arms around him tightly, lifting her hips as she gripped his own between her thighs tightly, and let a loud moan when he started rocking in and out of her tight walls. The kiss broke as her head fell back, and Dante's eyes became glued to her face, his motions hard and demanding, moderately paced so that each drive home inside of her made her jolt and let a little moan that grew louder with time.

She was wet silk all around him, her muscles clenching at his throbbing shaft. Dante had often thought to himself that if there was in fact a heaven, it was in a woman's body, and he felt no differently now. It was like fire, driving home inside of her tight walls between her thighs, and the thought made him increase his pace, groaning lowly when she clenched up so tightly he could only wonder how he was still thrusting.

Regan's hips drove back against him, meeting him so that every hard pump was that much more intense, creating a slap of flesh that was lewd and altogether erotic in sound.

The movements were hard and demanding, nothing gentle or slow. It was full of need and wanting, wet skin slipping against wet skin, and what little was spoken were names, moans, and cries of pleasure.

Dante felt a tightness in his groin that signaled his oncoming orgasm. Regan wasn't far behind him as she clenched tightly and drew her nails across his back without even realizing it. The friction between her thighs was white hot, and when she gasped out his name, her back arching so that each move he made caused her breasts to brush along his chest, she heard his lowly groaned demand, "Come on, baby, that's it."

Teetering on the edge, Regan couldn't stop herself. She spasmed around him, falling into the void that consumed her completely, just as she felt that hard pounding between her thighs that suddenly stopped with a harsh jolt as Dante found his own release at the exact same time. It was so demanding that Regan couldn't help but drag her teeth across his throat where she'd buried her face while she clutched at him so tightly, trying to jolt her hips over him while he held her hips in place.

Dante slammed himself inside of her again in response, groaning lowly, spilling himself completely, and he sank to his knees with her as their mutual release began to die down around them. Sated by the experience, dripping wet with the water from the showerhead, they panted harshly in the aftermath.

Coming still against one another, Dante let his hands fall to her hips as they rested on their knees, moaning her name out along with, "Fuck, why can't every night be like this?"

"You're not done, are you?," she asked him, giving him a playful look that was expressed through a blush staining her cheeks.

It didn't surprise him as much as he just hadn't expected her to ask such a thing. He lifted a brow, and just as playfully, told her, "No, ma'am. I hadn't thought of ending it just yet. Why? Still feeling frisky?"

"Very," she admitted, leaning up to brush her lips along his. After the show of affection, she added, "I just wanna stay all night."

"Pull an all nighter? I think my stamina's up to it."

Regan couldn't help but roll her eyes a bit. "You're always so quick to jump into things, and then when they're going your way, you act like you can't handle it, you goofball."

Dante was grinning at her. When she saw the look, she shook her head at him and added, "I do it sometimes too though. I don't think you and I are all that different."

Considering those words, the water still pouring down over them both, dripping from the ends of their hair and down along their flesh, Dante nodded. Sure, they came from different places, but they had a lot of similarities between them. While the ride had been frustrating, it was starting to produce some interesting twists, and if he had to do it over again, he probably would just so he could meet her. She was dedicated, fiery, spirited, and he admired that.

Before he could say a word about it though, she said softly, "I know you don't want to make any big plans, but if something should happen to me, I'm extremely glad that we met."

"Don't start playing the 'I'm dying' card, Regan."

"I'm not," she shook her head quickly. "Really, I just wanted to say it before anything else can happen, so you'd know no matter what happens."

He could understand that, and he smirked at her. "Alright. Then I'll say the same thing back to you. No matter how irritated I've been by this whole mission, I'd do it again just because you were there."

Regan finally found a genuine smile. While they sat there, in the bottom of the tub, kept warm by one another and the water that was still hot enough, though they could tell it was starting to die down in temperature, Regan gave him a nod of understanding and kissed him. It was a mutual understanding, one that didn't need words to validate it. They didn't care for declarations of love or caring just then, but instead, were happy they'd found something in one another that they could relate to, something that connected them, which was quite rare indeed.

It was more than either of them had asked for, and something they'd wanted somewhere deep down that they wouldn't have admitted to verbally, or even to themselves in their own heads. Maybe they were falling in love with one another, who knew, but what seemed most important in that moment wasn't that they would, but rather that they both still had the capacity to no matter what hands life had dealt them.

As the kiss broke, Regan told him, "Alright, let's go up stairs before this hot water runs out and we start getting mushy on each other."

"Took the words right out of my mouth."