Disclaimer: If I owned Devil May Cry, my Lucia muse wouldn't be pleading with me to write a characters-strike-back fic so she can sacrifice Tanaka to Dante.
A priestess should not be written into a game where she makes her God look bad. Poor girl. I shall mollify her by strongly suggesting the Dante and Vergil fangirls among you think about joining the Church of Vie du Marii. They worship devils.
This fic is inspired by Gryffindorstef on livejournal; her penname is V. Gryffin or something on ffnet. I kept saying it was a shame no one wrote Dante/Nevan, and she said it would be a challenge to do it, and here we are. The references to the crush Dante had on Lady in 3 are a gift to her, as she supports that pairing. She writes it and Vergil/Lady. She had more fics with them on ffnet until ffnet took them down. If you want to see them there, talk to her on lj or give her a ton of reviews to inspire her to re-post the many, many chapters of goodness.
This is approximately in the same ficverse as all my other stuff, except the Dante/Alastor I used as a throwaway token pairing in Where You Are has been replaced by feelings between Dante and Nevan. Nevan here is acting very different than in "Thicker than Water", because there they had an audience. She's her usual wisecracking self here, as in the game and "Leaf of the Tree".
If you want the cutscenes from the third game so you can watch them on your computer, Google Vosor's Hand vs. Eye. They have those, boss battles, FMVs, and a lot of other cool stuff.
"Anyways, we're square for the next month?" Dante looked up from the pile of paperwork, clearly tempted to use Ifrit on it if the answer was no.
It seemed he wouldn't have to. "Seems like it, sugar." The redhead in black clasped her hands and stretched her arms up above her head. "Matier and Lucia are still sending free ammo in payment for the Arkham wanna-be, and it's a good thing the Spanish Hunters like the idea of a Hunter getting gypped less than they dislike us."
Dante looked at the paperwork grumpily to avoid the view. "5 years overdue. And we're still waiting for the UN. You save the world, and they try to cheat you." A sarcastic smile. "Sometimes I have to wonder why I bother. I was almost expecting them to hold off until they actually did hold that strike."
"Come on, Dante. They wouldn't actually have done that." Nevan snorted. "Even I know by now humans just don't spend that much if they can get out of it." She stood up, bending over the table to put the papers back in their file folders.
Dante rolled his eyes, "Like they don't like spending money until the Storm demon's broken the seal. And then they have a blame fest. How long do you think it's going to take me to get paid for that?"
Nevan took off the black baseball cap and shook out her crimson hair, which released a swarm of small bat-demons before falling around her shoulders. "Well, we're fine for sixteen months, at the normal attrition rate," she replied, the bats swarming around her casting flickering shadows on her face. "But can you please at least try not to lose any more motorcycles?" she chided, exasperated, as she bent down, picked up a folder, lifted it up to a bat, which took it in its little black claws and flew off after she sang a few quick high notes that sounded beautiful to Dante, even though he knew they meant, "Be a sweetie and put this in the cabinet third from the left, second drawer from the top? Between the third and fourth ones already in there."
Another one flew after it after she asked it to, "Open the drawer for your brood mates, please?"
Dante snorted. "I'm telling you, babe, it's not my fault they blow up!" He spread his hands.
"He's got a point." Trish interjected, looking up from the phone, the pencil she'd been idly tossing landing eraser-first on the hold button before bouncing back up to her hand to keep being tossed. "I threw that one at him, the one he borrowed on from Granny wasn't fireproofed properly…" She shrugged. "The guy's absolutely nuts about bikes, even I know that. He's just cursed." The pencil bounced again. "Yes, I'm heading over right now." The phone landed in the cradle as the desk chair she'd been leaning back in went back in place as she stood up. Grabbing the Sparda, she headed for the door. "Back in ten, guys."
"Make it five," Dante laughed, turning to watch her go. "You know we've got a guest later." He added, as Nevan bent down, hair shifting over the riveted black leather jacket as she moved, handing another folder to another bat, singing again and petting it before it flew off.
Trish rolled her eyes. "I know, I know, this Lady you keep talking about. Don't worry, I'll make it quick." She grinned, reaching behind her back to touch the Sparda. "With this baby it'll take five. I can't believe you let me use it." Eyes narrowed, a golden-brown glint. He wasn't enough of a fool to believe he could take it away if he tried, right?
Dante laughed, "I got enough people saying I'm the coolness that I am," a mock bow, "only because of my dad without using his powers all the time, thanks."
Trish echoed the laugh, eyes returning to blue. "You're a card, bro." She clapped mockingly.
Dante bowed exaggeratedly again. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here until midnight. As usual, no applause, just throw money."
Nevan laughed too, the otherworldly sound harmonizing with his laugh. Dante laughed a little less darkly, eyes smiling at the sound.
"Well, I'm off." Trish, grinning, pushed through the double swinging doors. A few seconds later, her bike started up, sound cutting off as she used her powers to displace to the Mission location.
"I owe you." Dante added to Nevan.
Nevan laughed again. "Well, for an incredible personal accountant for almost fifteen years you owe me a few hundred thousand, buddy." She leaned over the table to pinch him on the cheek. "But you're a handsome devil, so I'm giving you a discount. Room, board, and jam sessions. Sweet deal, ain't it, sugar?" A grin, little fangs just peeping through.
Damn it, Dante had thought looking at her face would be safe! "Not just that. For not telling her about…" he looked away, embarrassed at the memory.
"About what?" She grinned again, pausing in the middle of straightening up to hand another bat a folder. "About our first time?" She laughed. "I'm amazed you didn't yell, 'Hello, Temen ni Gru!'"
"Hey, it was cool at the time!" Dante held up his hands.
Another little laugh, fangs flashing. "Suuure. You keep telling yourself that, sugar." She reached over to pat him patronizingly on the head, then handed off the folder and bent down for another one. Three more to go…
"Anyways," he laughed nervously, changing the subject from that embarrassing memory of his youth, "I know you two are getting along, and it's great, because you two pack quite a voltage and Alastor's already on strike…"
"Again!" Nevan said, annoyed, red eyes flashing. He wasn't weird to find that attractive, he reassured himself. After all, back before he'd defeated her, a lot of people had fallen for her charms… "Chaos, he's such a brat. Siblings…" she hummed something just on the edge of his hearing that from what he could make out was unprintable due to profanity as well as being profane. But she cut it off hurriedly, shaking her head and singing to the baby bats, "No, of course I don't mean you!" as they cheeped at her.
"Anyways, you two are getting along as if you were…" his lip twitched with an ironic smile, "better than if you were sisters."
Nevan seemed to fold in on herself, eyes shuttered by the hair that fell in front of them as she lowered her head slightly. She stood up straight and picked up the last three folders, which were the ones nearest her. That was typical devilish Nevan, driving him nuts… this wasn't. "She might be."
Dante blinked, shocked. But, now that he thought about it, "She does have your powers… Did Rebellion tell you about the Plasmas?" He should have told her, but… he'd had to kill the baby bats, the bloodgoyles: he was a Devil Hunter, and they were demons.
"Yes." Nevan nodded. She smiled again, that vibrancy showing on her face again, "Thank you. The God of Time has them now." Unlike his brother. He didn't want to know what Mundus was doing with him now…
She handed out the last three folders and sang, then walked around the table, coming up close to him. He stood up, trying not to make it obviously he was doing so to avoid those coming in at just above eye height.
This meant he ended up looking directly into those eyes, red with just a hint of orange. She put her arms around him, smiling, leaning down just a little, eyes looking up through long crimson lashes and damn it, it had been easier when it was just about saying no to the sex.
Not that that was easy either… "I was talking about Lady's motorcycle." He sighed. "Damn, that was a cool bike…"
She laughed, breath hotter than a human's and without that sour tang and fake mint he remembered Lady's and even his mother's had had swaying his hair and warming his face. And that was the only reason it was red, yes it was.
And he was just the king of denial, wasn't he? "You posed with it," she said laughing. "You were trying so hard to be cool then, it was so cute!"
"Lady's still ticked about it," Dante grumped, pouting. He's show her cute. "How was I supposed to know she brought a bike that would blow up after only a few whacks?"
The last of the bats flew back, and perched up in the rafters, cheeping. But then, when didn't he have an audience? He smiled as she laughed again.
"They usually do, sugar." She reached up a hand to cup his chin and look in his eyes, and he couldn't just leave her hanging off him, his arms stiff at his sides, like he was afraid or didn't like her or whatever, now could he? He would just hold her a little.
She was always warm, warmer than him, even though his body temperature was warmer than humans'… other humans' body temperatures. And her breath smelled just a little like ozone, like flying so high up a human wouldn't be able to breathe in air purer than any on earth.
He almost asked her what his smelled like, but that would be crossing a line he was dimly aware he had crossed a few miles back even more finally, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know for certain.
Sour blood would have ruined the moment. If this was a moment, of course, which it wasn't.
Even if he was holding her, he held her all the time: kicking demonic ass, making kickass music together, although he played the drums more in their jam sessions, because she just looked so insanely alive doing a solo, strumming like a bat out of hell. This wasn't really any different, the vibration against his chest being her dark heart beating and her breath going quietly in and out instead of the sounds she made and the force she shook with when he played her.
They laughed together then, and that was a much more… together thing to do than just standing here, and that wasn't crossing any lines.
And it wasn't like… there was bare skin or anything, like when they had first met and he had caught her before she had fallen, which had been a stupid thing to do when she was still trying to kill him, but he couldn't have just let her fall, right?
He'd been such a punk, he thought detachedly, his hands sliding under her biker jacket and feeling her silk shirt as she smiled, pressed up against his chest armor, eyes level with his again, and there really weren't that many people he could see eye-to-eye with.
And she was smiling, and this was just lust, right? She was a succubus, siren, whatever and it was perfectly natural for a human, even if his oh-so-perfect father hadn't looked twice at her. The idiot.
He'd been in love before, for about an hour, and that hadn't been like this. That had been one more thing to worry about, was she okay, when she was one more person trying to kill him, one more person calling him a monster, when he'd had Vergil's stupid screw-up to worry about, the fate of the world and his mother's last gift on the line.
He'd ended up loving her, he'd ended up respecting her bravery if not her brains, and he'd wanted her to kiss him back even though he'd known she wouldn't, and it had been one more thing that day that had hurt, that rejection, but he hadn't liked her until a couple years later, talking shop, and shouldn't he be getting ready for when she came by later? Ebony and Ivory had eaten all the mint milanos…
Nevan, his Nevan, his Air Blade, he'd liked, although that was a little weird given that he'd known she was an enemy right off, but then Lady had shot him right off, and again, and again, and should he treat her any different just because she was a human? Well, yeah, they were fragile, everything human was fragile, no matter how cool the person or the rocketcycle…
Not that fierceness, not the stunning rage of a cornered kitten, helpless and knowing it yet fighting on no matter what because giving up, going away, abandoning vengeance was not an option, Nevan wasn't like him in that, no.
Nevan had smiled, not scowled when he met her, and traded innuendos and he'd liked her right off, even if she was a demon and he hadn't hesitated a second in fighting her, killing her, and she hadn't either and wouldn't have either.
And she had been just as wrongly stunning in her tainted over-perfection as Lady was with that little scar on the nose of someone who should have been still in high school laughing with her friends. She wasn't that young any more…
And Nevan had been the first one there, even Vergil, to think that maybe there was more to him than just what he'd inherited from his father.
And he hadn't really thought about kissing her, then. Not like he was now, when he was looking in her eyes and knowing, just knowing, that she was thinking the same things he was, that she'd gone through things like he had. And now she got through things with him, and did all the little stupid things like the bills and annoying the hell out of people to get money out of them so he didn't have to life off of his father's money… standing on his own two feet, leaning on her. Like she was leaning on him, right now.
And damn them, he should think of some way out of this, some way without hurting her, because he'd never really done that, battle was battle and Mundus was their true enemy from the start and he just didn't want to hurt her and he couldn't use her like they had and he'd seen all the time, partners having to split up when something like this had happened but he just couldn't make himself want to move…
And Nevan smiled, perfect Nevan, and kissed him on the cheek, a safe kiss, and pulled gently away.
Damn, he owed her for this, and she knew it too.
Where were they?
Oh, yeah. "It's great of you to, you know, not tell Trish about all the embarrassing stuff I did back then. Of course," he grinned, "In a few more months, we'll get to the point where it won't matter what she gets told about, I'll have all the ammunition I need."
Nevan laughed again, and sang, and the bats settled in her hair again, and she tucked her cap back on. "It's not me you need to worry about."
Dante blinked. "Oh, no." He winced. "I'd better see if I can get Trish to go on more Missions tonight."
Nevan nodded, smirking slightly. "It's always the first thing you two bring up when you start bantering. You're like an outdated comedy team."
"Hey!" Dante said, "Comedy team? I resemble that remark." His smirk matched hers.
"Flocking." Nevan pointed out, grinning.
"It was funny at the time?" Dante shrugged. Twin grins.
"You just keep telling yourself that, sugar." She sashayed through the doors, a stray bat snagging the shopping list.
"Alright, I will."
"Good." Her head rested on her elbows, which were propped on the saloon doors as she smirked over them at him from outside the shop.
"Good." Dante nodded firmly, settling back into the desk chair just as the phone rang.
"Devil May Cry."
He walked though the doors after her a few seconds later. "Let's Rock."
Gryff? Yep, this is somewhat of an issue fic, but I wanted to do it this way, so there. :P
Hope you like it anyways. It's also much more of a sap fic than I was planning to write, but my Nevan seems to have both Dante and I right where she wants us.