WHAT: DMC; Short, humour.
WHO: Dante & Lady; casual and friendship, possibly a bit flirty.

- - - - - - - - - -

PAPERWORK.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was a quiet evening at the office. Dante carefully studied the bottle in his hand before unscrewing the top. A wave of sweet alcohol-scented air assaulted his sensitive nose. It was strong, and red. The liquid gleamed in the odd lighting inside Devil May Cry. A sort of cold, almost purple, but rich red. Dante liked red. But no. This one wasn't right, he decided. He screwed the cap back on. Putting it back down he picked up another little bottle. This one smelled similar to the first but was white or silver, and had lots of glitter in it. It gleamed and sparkled.

Nail polish. Strangely fascinating. Dante studied the bottle where he sat leaned back in his chair in a usual fashion. "So... how is it?" He asked out loud and glanced to his side, while still partly preoccupied by the examination of the piece of make-up.

Beside Dante's chair, there was another seat pulled up right next to the heavy desk. The person occupying it was hidden behind several pieces of paper that they were reading. Papers much the same as was littering half of the desk surface, along with some folders, Dante's feet, Eva's portrait... and a few bottles of nail polish, among other things.

"What do you think?" The frown on Lady's face was particularly accusing when she answered his query. She put the papers together and pointed them at him. "It is a damn miracle that you are still in this building AND have a working phone number, that is how it is." She stated in a matching tone. If she hadn't been leaning back in the armchair she might have come off as quite forceful.

Luckily, Dante had known this little woman long enough to tell the dangerous frowns form the less dangerous ones. Well, most of the time anyway. He reckoned that this time, it was fairly harmless. But, just to be on the safe side, he smiled ever so sweetly. "Well, babe, that's why I have you."

A smile to disarm a hundred women. Lady, however, wasn't buying it. Or at the very least, she did a good job hiding it behind an utterly well poised look of sheer scepticism. Dante cleared his throat and adjusted his bow-tie.

The bow-tie was black, and in fact the only thing he was visibly wearing besides his red pants. It was a nice bow-tie but Dante adjusted it anyway, for show, and shot her a charming smile that would put the best of Hollywood to shame. He patted the pair of slim female feet that was currently resting on top a towel in his lap. "Friends help each other out, right?" he said.

Lady wriggled her toes and smirked, sweetly. "Of course."

Dante popped open the bottle of nail polish.

- - - - - - - - - -