Disclaimers: I do not and never will own Devil May Cry. All rights are reserved to its creators, Capcom, etc, so please DO NOT sue me cause I have nothing to give any of you. I just write fanfiction because I like to.
Author's Note: Ok, as before, this is still a first attempt at a Devil May Cry fic and no, DMC2 NEVER happened cause I didn't like that one as much and I still haven't passed it so it would be stupid to include something I don't know anything about, right? Um...there are some things that might seem weird in here, but they'll make sense soon! This chapter is a little bit more light and playful...less serious, and more teasing-ish (note: not a word .), but there is an actual plot to the story and it's not all sex! Please, no flames, but constructive criticism is welcome! Ok, well, enough of my blabbing! Onto the fic! I hope you enjoy it, even a little bit.
Fatal Disposition: Introducing Mr. Luc Feir
The night was darker than before as she watched the city lights fly by her as they rode on. Her mind was hazy as she heard the engine slow and Karl begin to brake. When they made a complete stop, Trish hopped off the bike, casually leaning against a nearby tree as she sighed heavily. Karl seemed to sense her irritation that was simmering beneath the surface of her delicate pale skin. He smiled. "Do you want to talk about it Trish?"
"Do I ever..." See trailed in annoyance. She huffed as she crossed her arms in defiance. "You know what Karl? I don't know why I waste my time with him. He doesn't treat me the way I want."
Karl chuckled. "Trish, you know he loves you...but you also know Dante's past...it's clouded."
She huffed again. "Yeah...and it probably doesn't help that I look the way I do."
"But you're beautiful Trish," Karl reminded her.
Trish heaved a small breath. "Yes, I've been told so many times before. But...it's more complicated than that Karl, way more complicated."
Karl arched a brow. There seemed to be an underlying meaning in her words, one he could not decipher. It was true that he knew quite a bit about Trish and Dante, especially since they'd been coming to his bar for quite some time. More so, Dante had been going there years before Trish joined him. He knew them rather well; probably more than most, but something about them still remained a mystery to anyone, no matter how long he or she knew the pair. He watched as Trish released a steady breath, one that held no positive nature. Her posture produced waves of hurt, pain and anger while her body language spoke the magnitudes of each emotion. Her blonde hair was flaring slightly in the breeze, splaying itself against the tree that was supporting her. Karl had to admit that she was beyond attractive in the dark night. But he reminded himself that he was just a friend. The only reason Trish dragged him into half the predicaments the way she did was because they were friends and she usually was drunk, somewhat. He knew how she felt for the Demon Slayer and knew it would be a cold day in hell before Dante even let him think about her in a romantic way.
Yes, Dante could be a hothead when he wanted to, which, according to Trish, was most of the time--when he wasn't being a sluggish ass. It mad Karl laugh inside as he watched the fiery woman mumble obscenities in front of him. She may have appeared to be innocent on the outside when Dante first introduced them to each other, but Karl knew she was nothing like that. Trish, herself, could also be quite the hothead on occasions, but to a higher degree than Dante. Yet, she somehow managed to keep her temper under control while Dante's would flare at any given moment, at least when it came to her. Over all, Dante was a pretty calm and collected fellow, but when anything concerning Trish was messed around with, his temper skyrocketed. This was the reason Karl found Trish's statement so irking. 'If he gets so over protective about her, why does she sound like he has no reason to?' He was more than sure that they were actually going out, if not partners in more way than one, by now. To see Trish seething the way she was at the moment dropped those guessed down to practically nothing. A person who dated someone for more than two years or so did not seethe when her partner came after her. Or at least this seemed weird to Karl.
Although Karl himself was as single bachelor, eh didn't think he was going to be getting tied down by a relationship anytime soon. He had met many attractive women in his life so far--of course none were as attractive as Trish was--but he didn't think of relationships that often. He owned a bar and entertained his guests. But he didn't want to be a bartender forever. His thoughts were broken at a curse. Another glance at Trish told him she was calming slowly after being able to rant about how much of a pinhead Dante was. He waited patiently as she picked herself off the tree and began heading once again towards the bike. He looked at her skeptically. "Are you done now?"
"You make me sound like a five-year-old who just threw the biggest tantrum," She said, her eyes aglow with hints of mirth.
"Well, technically, you did," He replied with a grin. "Only that in your case it's totally normal and ok." He patted the back of the bike. "Look Trish, I got to get you back to the shop or Dante might mangle me. I know we're all friends here, but his eyes were showing murder today...and I do want to keep my appendages."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't want to go home. Besides...I am a grown woman. Who says I need HIM to dictate what I want to do? Just take me to your house. I'll crash there and you can take me home tomorrow morning."
Karl gave her a warning glance. "I don't mind helping you out Trish, I'm your friend and all. But if Sparda feels like killing me for it, you're doing ALL the explaining." Trish nodded good-naturedly. "I can't believe I am doing this. You owe me big for this one little lady."
Trish smirked. "How would you like me to repay you?"
Karl thought for a moment as he placed his helmet in his hand, foot on the gas pedal as he prepared to rev the engine. "Make up with the big oaf before I get caught in the middle again."
She pouted. "Fine, you win. Let's just go. I'm exhausted."
He laughed as he placed his hands on the bars and Trish hooked her arms around him. "From what? You haven't done anything!" She growled. He relented. "All right. No problem then."
"Thanks Karl, you're a pal," Trish murmured as her head collapsed against his back. "We need to get home before I fall asleep on you now and fall off the bike." He laughed again. "Just get to it Djavan."
Back at the shop Dante continued to stare at the clock. 'They're late.' It was past the time Karl was supposed to bring Trish home, four hours to be exact. Dante felt his blood boiling as he thought about the recent events of the evening. Trish's behavior was somewhat surprising as she had never actually pulled Karl into something quite as daring as she had tonight. His glaring at the clock became more intense as he thought about what they were doing right now. 'Karl cannot have Trish.' His mind was refusing to accept the fact that she had left on her own free will and that he had absolutely NO control over her life, especially after the way he had been treating her. It was true, he did go out to Karl's bar and sometimes he would sleep around, even when Karl told him it wasn't wise. But the thought of losing Trish made him regret his actions terribly, and he began pacing the living room, Ebony and Ivory twirling nervously around his fingers. Sparda hung menacingly from the metal brackets, gleaming softly in the dimly lit room, reminding him of Trish as he had given her ownership of it. He preferred the Alastor to his own Sparda, not to mention he thought Trish needed Sparda for safety purposes.
He felt like hitting himself over the head for not realizing his actions earlier and how hurtful they were towards her. But then again, he had been over the top drunk, or drunk off his ass, as Karl put it. He could still smell the faint scents of various cheap perfumes and alcohol on his crimson coat. He allowed his head to fall back against the plushy surface of the couch, which Trish had conveniently cleaned before she fled. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, mainly concerning his charge and his friend. He checked the clock again. He fumed. It read now five hours past the time she should have been home. 'Have I been thinking THAT long?' He quickly sat up, receiving a head rush from having consumed another two bottles of liquor shortly after he arrived home since she'd left with Karl. Luckily for him, his Demon blood allowed for Detox and tolerance of certain human products. Trish, on the other hand, could hold her drink less so. She usually was drunk after two Demon Drops due to the amount of everclear added to it. 'That's why I am there to care for her...when I'm not off being an idiot.' Once again he felt like punishing himself for driving her away but his less rational part of mind drove him to grab the keys to his bike and head over to search for her. 'And she'd better have a good excuse.'
Trish threw her hands up in defeat for the fifth time as Karl continued to laugh maliciously. "You are cheating, you have to be! There is no way you could've won THAT many times in a row!" She tossed her cards at his face. "That's it! I give up!"
He smirked at her again as she continued raving. "Look, it's not my fault I am so good at this game. And, it isn't my fault it's been Colonel Mustard five times, consecutively."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Whatever. Hey, where is the food? Shouldn't it be here by now?"
Karl checked his watch. "Yeah, it should." She began walking away, practically tripping in the process. "Watch it there!" He cried out as he caught her. He shook his head. "How many cappuccinos did you have while I was showering?"
She counted off her fingers. "Um...two?"
He sighed. "You really can't take your caffeine, can you?" She smiled goofily. Just then the doorbell rang. "That must be the food. Let's go get that." He would have objected to her going as well but she was currently clutching his arms while giggling drunkenly from the caffeine. He managed to balance her with one arm while swinging the door open. The sight that met him was one unexpected and quite terrifying. Dante stood before him, eyes burning bloody murder at him as Trish hiccupped then giggled again. "Um...hey there...what's up Dante?"
Dante's fist tightened as he roughly grabbed Trish's arm. "We're going home. Now." She made no attempt to stop him, being too out of it to even notice what happened. Before he knew it, she had passed out on his chest, her sugar high crashing instantly. Karl just continued looking at them through uncertain eyes. "What did you do to her?"
Karl put his hands up in surrender. "Nothing. Look, she just didn't feel like going home...refused to in fact...so I brought her here." Dante's eyes narrowed. "She had too much coffee...and mixed with her two drinks from earlier...I'd say it was about time before she crashed." When he returned his gaze to the man before him, he immediately stumbled back. "I didn't do anything to her Dante, I swear. We're friends, remember? I wouldn't ever touch her that way." Dante relaxed somewhat. He knew Karl was good for his word. "But listen, I am not getting in your way, if that's what you're worried about. She just needed to talk about some things tonight, things that have been building up and-
"And she couldn't tell me over you?" Dante's eyes flared again.
Karl sighed for what seemed the millionth time in the same night. "It appears that way. I'm not going to give you advice Dante, but remember what I told you about doing what you do at my bar? Well, it's caught up with you. If you don't watch it, this firefly won't even THINK about returning back the next time. Don't make me tell you I told you so...again." Karl offered Dante his hand, which the silver-haired man shook. "Great...I'll see you sometime this week."
Dante nodded. "Night Djavan."
"Night Sparda." The door to Karl's closed silently.
Sunlight filtered through the windows of the bedroom, and Trish had to block her eyes from the wretched intruder. Her head ached like something horrible and her vision was hazy. 'Where am I?' She tried to lift her head but groaned as an intense pain shot through it. She groaned again, this time in self-irritation. 'I can't believe I got drunk...again. Damn hangovers...' She felt around for something familiar and found a pair of boots on the bed, not her boots though. "Dante?" Her voice cracked as she noted that the air was still and silent. Once again, she repeated herself. "Dante, are you here?"
She accepted the glass that was handed to her, as well as the two pills in Dante's hand. Once she'd swallowed them down she was able to lift herself up into sitting position, albeit extremely cautiously and slowly. "When did I get back? I don't remember coming home...or wanting to come home..." She mumbled to herself in confusion.
"I picked you up last night," Dante stated matter-of-factly.
Trish scowled at him. "What?"
"You were late and I suppose you weren't planning on coming home."
"Well, that's my business, isn't it?" She spat at him as she stood up, grabbing her head in pain, and began walking down the staircase. "I can't even have my own life when you're around! For Virgil's sake! I might as well be five again and have mom and dad coming to scold me for staying out late! Fuck, Dante, I am old enough to do whatever I want! Besides, I was having fun for the first time in a while and Karl is my friend too. Why are you so paranoid?" She turned around to face him, wondering if he had anything to say about his behavior. She was alarmed to see no expression on his face. His eyes were blank. She felt the frustration in her body grow at an uncontrollable rate. Releasing an exasperated sigh, Trish walked slowly towards the entrance to their bathroom, her mind heavy and in pain from her hangover. With another sigh that told Dante to take his leave she grabbed the nearest brush and began to brush furiously through her sun-kissed tresses. Dante hadn't moved. "Well, are you planning on standing there all day, or did you not hear the phone just ring?"
His eyes suddenly grew to a hard glare as he turned on his heal and stomped his way down the staircase to the living room where the annoying contraption was bellowing. Trish smiled lightly as she looked in the mirror. 'Was it just me, or was he acting like a temperamental five year old?' She was still combing her hair when she heard footsteps. They died next to her and she turned to ask Dante what he wanted. "What? Is it for me?"
"It's Karl." His jaw tightened considerably and Trish felt the sudden need to tease him, more out of annoyance than anger as it had been initially.
With a small giggle, uncharacteristic for her, Trish swooped down the staircase to collect the phone. Once there, she picked it up, cradle and all, while twirling the cord in her fingers. "Hello?" Karl's voice blared into the receiver. "I suppose I could go, but I should check with Dante...well, no, I guess not. It's important? All right. I'll let him know. Both of us? Sure...no problem Karl. Thank you so much! Bye!"
Dante's presence overwhelmed her as he stepped into the now silent room. "What did Djavan want?"
"He said that the client I took the job for is down at the bar right now. He was willing to cut us a deal...so Karl said to head down now." Trish scowled. "Do you want to go now? Or does that mess with your schedule?"
"I'm going to not comment on your attitude right now Trish," Dante replied as he picked up his coat and keys to his motorcycle. "Are you solo or not?"
"Like we could afford the gas mileage on that one!" Trish bellowed menacingly as she followed him out to his bike. Very reluctantly, Trish boarded the motor bike, carefully securing her arms around Dante's waist as he revved the engine just as Karl had the other night. Motorbikes made her feel light but with Dante, she felt like she could fly. Momentarily forgetting her anger with him, she leaned over to whisper in his ear, coyly. "This is a trick to stop me from being upset with you, isn't it?" He nodded slowly. "You win for now Sparda. Now, just drive."
Trish released a somewhat feral scream from the adrenaline rush as Dante pressed the gas pedal. They disappeared into the early haze. A chuckle rose from her throat as they passed through the desert like a speeding bullet, barely noting the various cacti lining the road. It usually took them a good hour to make it to town and that was saying a lot since it was Dante's bike. She knew the peak hours would come then, and the sun would beat down on them like hellfire. 'I should really stop wearing leather.' She moved the pads of her fingers around Dante's chest in small circle-like patterns that she knew would make him squirm. Her past upsets with him came flooding back and she wanted slight revenge, even if it was just teasing. Either way, she wanted him to know how she felt when he did the same. Immediately she could sense the tension rising in his body. His muscles tensed beneath her fingertips, his back tensed beneath her chest and, most of all, his grip on the handlebars of the motorcycle tensed. The gloves he worse squeezed his hands as she let out a playful giggle. She had him right where she wanted him: to want too badly to touch her, but to remain in a safe state as they were on a moving vehicle. Trish's eyes narrowed into tiny slits that spelled payback. It was amazing to her, nonetheless, how he managed to stay calm enough to ride them into town.
When they arrived, Karl had left the door open and was waiting outside. Trish jumped off the bike to make a mad dash for the restroom. Dante looked particularly peeved. "Something the matter Sparda? You look ticked." Karl shot his trademark smile at his friend. Dante walked right past him, mumbling incoherent statements, which left Karl to trek after him. "Hey, was it something I said? Dante!"
Inside, Trish was already seated at a booth with a classy, rich looking man. 'Must be our client,' Dante mused. She was sipping lazily from a glass of coke and rum when Dante plopped down next to her. He shot the man a warning look in the darkness. "You must be the man we're here to see." Trish snorted. "What did you need?"
"This impeccably beautiful woman informed me that you accepted my offer, yes?" Dante nodded. "Well, I was unaware that she had a partner, until I saw you a couple nights ago. I assume she didn't inform you...she never mentioned anything to me." Another snort issued from Trish at the man's accusation. "Please miss; do not see me that way. I mean no accusation. I simply meant this: it would be much easier for both of you to accomplish this job for me than it would just one person. So..." The man lowered his sunglasses a fraction. "You must be the Dante Sparda, the notorious Demon Slayer." He turned to Trish. "And you must be his lady friend, Miss Trish, correct?"
"Drop the Miss, please!" Trish downed her coke and Rum before politely shaking his hand. "No need for formalities here!" She swiveled around in her chair. "Yo Karl, another Coke with Rum here!"
"Coming right up Trish!" Karl shouted back. "Dante, anything for you?"
"No thanks." Dante's reply was curt as he eyed the man for any signs of suspicious behavior or looks. "Yes, that would be us. Now, who are you? I'd like to know my client's name."
"No problem Mr. Sparda." He smirked at Dante. "The name is Mr. Luc Feir. You want to know more?" At Dante's nod he proceeded. "Well, I am pretty popular in the slums, a jack-of-all-trades, if you will. I got into some nasty business with some bad fellas...demons. You understand."
Dante nodded again. "And...what exactly do you need us to do?"
Luc laughed. "I need you to get rid of them, but don't kill them. They need to be delivered to this man named Nemoeth. He'll know what to do. Here," he handed them a card. "That's where you can find him. The demons...I don't think you need me to tell you where they are. If you run into any others besides the ones I want you to deal with, consider it extra payment." Trish and Dante were surprised. Luc looked at his watch. "Well, I have to go. I have other business to tend to. Nice to meet you. I'll contact you at your place in about two weeks."
"Two weeks? Isn't that a bit...soon?" Trish paused from sipping her drink.
Luc shook his head. "Believe me...they'll find you, if anything." With that, he disappeared through the door.
"I don't like this man or his proposition," Dante murmured.
"Too late...we already signed the contract of acceptance." Trish sighed.
"Screw the contract," Dante yelled.
"Incase you hadn't noticed, it was a special one that binds demon slayers to their employer...it's undoable." She waited patiently for Karl to bring her another round of coke with rum by contentedly sipping the remnants of her flavored ice. "Listen, we should discuss this at the house, not here. Remember to bring Karl over too...he knows the locals...maybe he knows something about this guy." Dante's head hurt too much to argue, so he settled with Trish's solution and ordered a round of Demon Drops to wash away the strangeness of the situation--and his headache. She rolled her eyes. "Alcohol will make it worse you big dope."
"Yeah...and I don't care." His reply was flippant as Karl set down the tray of drinks, selecting a mango margarita for himself. "Djavan, know anything about this man who we just talked to?"
Karl stopped putting salt on his glass to think, his eyes gazing at the ceiling. "Nope...can't say that I do. He's not a regular...not like my others. He started coming in a week ago. He's mostly kept to himself since then...doesn't even order drinks when he's here, which is strange. After all, why go to a bar if you're not going to drink?"
"I disagree with that assumption Karl." Trish stood from her stool as a dance song came on. "I come to Dance, not always to drink." It was Dante's turn to snort, but Trish ignored it; instead she smiled mischievously at Karl. "Come on Karl...dance with me. Dante wants to stay over there...drowning in the demon's downfall...come on!"
Karl's face twisted into one of uncertainty. "Um...Trish...maybe we should-
"Dance Karl, come on!" Trish had pulled him with her to the dance floor. For her, the most exhilarating part was the fact that they were the only two people on the dance floor; and counting Dante, the only three people in Karl's bar. When Karl refused to comply with her wishes, Trish returned to the table and slumped in her chair. "You're no fun today Karl...and I need you to brighten my day." Once again, Dante snorted from behind his Demon Drop. Trish realized she was not going to have a chance to tease Dante anymore. After having congregated in the private quarters of the bar, she resigned herself to taking a nap in the Karl's makeshift bed while he and Dante discussed "male matters" in the next room. What they talked about or had in common was a mystery to her, one she wasn't interested in solving in her current state. She let out a heavy yawn, deciding a nap before their pre-celebration would be wise if she was going to have energy for the upcoming events. Removing the ponytail from her copper-blonde hair, Trish lay her head down and fell into a comfortable, rested slumber, for once not worried about Dante or his whereabouts.
A few hours later Trish was rudely awakened by a rough shake to her shoulders. Automatically her hand swung out in a right hook to her attacker. It was caught quickly and stopped. Trish whined in irritation. "Dante, this better be important."
He laughed. "The bar is doing well tonight. Karl is out there raking in the bucks...do you want to head home or hang out a while longer now that you've napped?"
She contemplated momentarily before extending her hand to him for help in standing up. Once they were both upright and she was coherent, they both moved towards the entrance to the bar. Her mind was whirling slightly from the lights in the bar, which at night was more of a club with a bar than anything else. It gave her a strange natural high that didn't come down till late hours in the morning, usually. Dante's hand grasped hers firmly, letting her know that he planned on watching her tonight lest she get drunk again and do something careless. Although Trish wanted to bash him on the head for thinking her only a silly woman, she knew he did it with the best intentions. But that didn't mean she was ready to forgive him just yet. 'I still should make him suffer more.' Once they entered the stuffy bar filled with people dancing, Trish lost herself in the crowd, successfully wriggling free of Dante's death grip. Immersed in the writhing bodies around her, Trish was able to watch Karl and Dante from her spot on the dance floor as they resumed their discussion from earlier. Disappointment swelled up within her as she realized she had no one to dance with. She stood still in the midst of the crazy dancers, mainly teenagers, pondering how to solve her problem. Suddenly an idea she knew no one could resist popped into her mind. 'This will be perfect,' she assumed in her mind.
Pushing various people out of her way, Trish placed herself in the middle of the dance floor, directly both men's line of vision. Just then, a song that Trish found to her liking. Making sure she had everyone's attention, she began to dance in the most provocative, seductive way as possible. 'This is so degrading...but it is fun as hell.' She chanced a quick peak over her shoulder as she rolled her hips to the left then to the right. 'Oh yeah...' She smiled contentedly as she saw both Karl and Dante watching her. Suddenly Dante turned to Karl and threw him a glare. Trish strained to hear above the thundering bass of the speakers. 'Lucky for me, I have enhanced hearing.'
"Hey...Sparda? Don't you think that she's...a good dancer?" Karl gulped at Dante's glare.
"Sure...if you like that kind of stuff." His usual cocky attitude was replaced by forced control as he left his anger to simmer. But as he watched his partner, he began to realize that she was, in fact, quite the dancer, not to mention teasing him. She'd done it before and he couldn't resist so many times before. 'I have to right now...I HAVE TO!' Though Karl could not see exactly what was going on inside his friend's mind, he knew it was an internal battle. He decided that snapping Dante out of it was the best idea. As he did so, Dante whipped around to pin him with another mien of annoyance. "What?"
"She's calling for you, I think." Karl pointed to Trish who was pointing at one of them; her fingers beckoning and her body saying "come-hither" as she continued dancing. They both watched as she started, albeit agonizingly slow, towards them, her eyes glowing with mischief. It suited her, Dante thought. When she reached them, both stared at her dumbfounded until she stuck out one perfectly milky arm and snatched Karl, once again, by his collar. "Trish?"
"Let's dance handsome," she whispered in his ear. Dante's eyes flashed with undiluted jealousy, which Trish brushed off as she dragged Karl to the dance floor without a second glance at Dante. Once they returned to the dance floor Trish placed her arms around Karl and began dancing as she had before, very much like the teenagers around her. Karl swallowed hard. She knew she was being a tease, but she couldn't help it. She was more into it than Karl was, she figured, but before she could ask why, she was snatched from behind and whirled around as a song called "Naughty Girl" blasted through the speakers. Dante's eyes were tinged with the red she recognized so often and Trish practically melted in his arms as he pulled her close, as though he would lose her. It was not so much of desperation but more of passion as they began to dance. Karl slinked away from them, relieved to have been spared Dante's wrath as he appeared preoccupied with Trish's other more appealing body parts.
He admitted to himself that seeing those two acting like teenagers was something that scared him, not to mention grossed him out. 'Who would want to see their friends making out? I know I don't,' He thought with amusement. But as he sat behind the bar's counter, occasionally filling people's glasses with alcoholic beverages, he began to think back to the strange man that entered the bar. Temporarily ignoring the two dancing on the floor, he went to the back in search of his records. He knew he'd seen the man before, somewhere. Karl's mind was alight with questions as to who the man was and why he had been in the bar without drinking. It was a wonder to him how such an ordinary looking man even found his friends since Trish and Dante were highly exclusive, private assassins. 'It's strange.' He ran a hand through his mahogany colored hair as he returned to the bar only to find his friends had gone. He sighed. 'Trish will be back tomorrow...I just know it.'
It disappointed Karl to see Dante behave as he had tonight and then see him a day later drunk off his ass with cheap women hanging all over him. He knew Trish deserved better. Yet her heart was reserved for Dante and Dante alone. Though he would never admit to himself openly that he did care for Trish a little more than just friends, he would not go as far to say that he loved her. He wasn't quite sure Dante loved her either. It made him feel guilty to think in such a way, but when he found her at the bar night after night because of their constant squabbles, he began to grow a steady impatience with his friend. 'Dante...you'd better fix things soon...Trish won't always come back to you.' The small pang of jealousy within him faded as he watched the crowd begin to disperse from within the bar. Once everyone had emptied, he glanced around. It was then that he noted Trish was sleeping on one of the lounger chairs--alone. Karl sighed. 'This sighing thing is going to become habit soon.' He knew before he even asked that they'd argued--again. By the looks of it, Dante had left without a word and Trish had fallen into a fitful sleep. Her cheeks were stained with a few light tears and her knuckles were red. 'Funny what can happen in such a short amount of time...I think I was only gone about ten minutes.' He figured that while he was in the back searching for clues that Dante must have started it. Apparently he usually did, at least according to Trish. HE wouldn't mind hearing Dante's side o f all the stories, but the latter Demon refused to share.
Heaving his last sigh for the night, Karl picked Trish up in his arms and headed for the back. He was too tired to go home and Trish was not going to wake up. It appeared she'd also have something to drink along the way. Setting her down on his makeshift bed, which was disheveled from her earlier nap, Karl pulled the covers over her, whispering an almost silent goodnight. As he started to close the door, he paused momentarily drinking in Trish's features. She'd always been beautiful to him, as he'd told her, but tonight she looked particularly stunning. He wasn't sure if it was the combination of her tears and peaceful face that drew on the "damsel in distress" look, or if it was because she had done something different. Whatever the case, Karl found he could not control himself as he leaned over, giving her a chaste kiss on her cherry-glossed lips. When he withdrew Trish let out a small sigh before rolling over, head buried in the pillow. Releasing a breath he didn't know he'd held Karl stepped away cautiously and closed the door behind him. Outside the door, he slid down against it, head in his hands. "This is crazy. It's certain death...I can't help it."
(Okie...that was weird, ne? Yeah...so I am pretty much playing with the plot here, but I do have ideas. There are many questions that will be answered in the next chapter so I'll be sure to make it interesting and sensible...er...of course as long as it fits in with the storyline. Constructive Criticism is welcome, but no flames please. They are not helpful and they're rude. Please refrain. R&R if you wish to. Ja ne and thank you so much for reading!)