Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry.

This is an exchange fic for kidavi.

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Dante tossed the phone back in the cradle. No password. Damn. He'd been hoping for a good mission, not just because they needed the money. Trish kept staring at him. "What?" he asked finally.

She walked over in front of the desk, braced her hands on it and leaned forward. She was being very in his face. And it wasn't her face that was in his face. "We need to talk."

He blinked. "Sure. We haven't got anything else to do until a call comes in. What do you want to talk about?"

"This." She grabbed his neck, lunged forward across the desk and kissed him.

Her lips pressed against his hard as he blinked in surprise looking into her eyes, which were open and narrowed. Then, just as suddenly as she'd attacked, she pushed herself back off the desk and stood, arms folded.

He blinked. He hadn't been expecting that.

It was very her, though. It reminded him of the time they had met, only it hadn't hurt.

"So?" She tapped her foot impatiently.

Sew your buttons, he thought automatically, the pun that had been his mother's response to them saying so. Saying it would irritate Trish. Did he want to irritate her after this revelation?

"Sew your buttons."

"What the hell, Dante? I don't wear buttons, and I'm not mending your clothes for you."

"Never mind." He just grinned.

"Never mind? In case you didn't notice, you big idiot, I just kissed you." She whaped his head. "So say something. And if you say 'something,' Dante, so help me, I will blast you into next week." Her fists thumped on the table.

"I thought you were happy being my self-appointed sidekick."

"I am happy. I've never been this happy ever. You saved my life, Dante. You treat me like a partner."

"Have you thought about this, Trish? Are you sure it's not just the fact I'm probably the first person you've ever known who didn't treat you like a tool?"

She shrugged and walked around the desk so it didn't shield him from her. "I don't know. Maybe. And there's lust, too. Lots of lust." She looked at him like a piece of meat. He smiled slightly. He knew he looked good.

So did she. Her top left nothing to the imagination. Since things were the way they were, he admired her openly.

She seemed slightly mollified by that, although she was still steamed. "I'm a demon, Dante. I was supposed to seduce you, do you know that? If you didn't follow me because I looked like your mother I was supposed to lead you around by your dick."

"I kind of guessed. I can't really blame Mundus for thinking I have an Oedipus complex, since I used to hate my father's guts and wish my mother had married someone else. Anyone else."

Her hands were propped up on her hips. "I don't look exactly like her. And incest is in families. I'm not related to you."

"I know."

"So you can damn well close your eyes." She gracefully sat on his lap, her legs flexing as she got comfortable.

He raised an eyebrow, inwardly amused. This was definitely the same Trish that had thrown his motorcycle at him. "But if I don't look at you, all I've got to think about is your charming personality."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry about the motorcycle. I'll break it down for you since you're enough of an idiot you followed me even after I impaled you. I like you, I've got the hots for you. You're a handsome human and an incredibly strong devil. You make me laugh. You put up with me even after I betrayed you. You even saved my life. I'm a demon. I can't say anything about love. But you've taught me a lot already." She pressed herself against him. "So?"

"Sew…" She slapped him. "Sorry." He grinned, not a bit sheepishly. "Trish, you're really hot. You might have been created by Mundus, but you helped me defeat him and probably saved the world. You look a little like my mother, but every time you do anything you remind me you're not her. You don't have her mannerisms, you, sorry, don't have her fire."

For a second, she looked as hurt and lost as when he'd said that on Mallet. She started to get up but he tugged her back down. "You haven't got that fire, but you've got your own spark."

She kissed him again. This time he was ready for her, his tongue pressing against her lips. She froze for a second, then her mouth opened.

Aggressive Trish. He was the one to pull back this time.

"I've only known you for what, a month? And I've spent that time trying to ignore the fact that you're a beautiful woman because you're living with me and I wouldn't take advantage."

"Of course not, you're too stupid and honorable."

"Anyways, I don't know if I love you either. I've never thought about it. I need to have a kid one of these days, somebody needs to beat that three-eyed rockhead when he comes back, but that's not something that needs to happen right this minute."

"You don't need a kid. You'll find some way to kill him yourself, with my help." Her legs crossed themselves and she preened.

"You say the sweetest things. Flattery will get you a kiss." A brief one.

"What will get me laid?" Headed straight for the heart of the matter. If he said no, would she aim for his heart with Sparda's sword?

"Being the drop-dead gorgeous woman I fight beside." He'd always had rotten luck with women. He was the only person she knew in this world, the person she looked up to. What if he screwed up? He'd never been in a relationship, just one night stands and a hopeless crush. He didn't want to lose his partner.

Hell, she would deal. She'd survived Mundus' court, she could survive an idiot like him.

She leaned onto him, pushing against the desk so the chair tilted dangerously as her hands wrapped around his back and her hands went into her hair and she smiled like a cat given license to pounce.

And then the phone rang.