Author's Note: Inspired by Finger Eleven's Paralyzer. It's a really neat song; give it a listen if you have never heard of it. Very dancy. :)
Disclaimer- IvoryTears doesn't own Devil May Cry in any way, shape, or form; nor is she making any money on this work of fiction. This is for creative purposes only.
He didn't know why he let Dante drag him out to this godforsaken bar. Vergil sipped on his scotch, eyes browsing through the crowded dance floor. He noticed a flash of silver and felt his lip curl in distaste. Leave it to Dante to surround himself with the vilest of harlots to be found in this place.
Vergil sneered in their general direction as his gaze moved onward. He also noticed Trish in the far corner, shooting down the many gentleman -if they could be called that- asking for her to dance with them. A rather persistent fellow kept placing his hands on her lower back, until Trish smiled sweetly and gave him a left hook to the face. Vergil smirked to himself as the others, along with the bloody nosed male, started backing away from her, finally leaving her in peace.
Trish gaze met his and she gave him a little wave. He gave her a slight nod, then went back to perusing the floor. Taking another sip of his drink, he thought he saw a familiar face in the midst of the crowd.
Raven hair and heterochromatic eyes flashed before him before the throng swallowed her up again. The crowd parted once more and he noticed Lady dancing by herself. A guy slipped behind her, trying to cope a feel, and Vergil snickered as the fellow met the barrel of a pistol Lady had hidden on her persons. He flushed and held his hands up as he fled the floor. Lady slid the handgun back into the holster on her leg.
She felt someone staring at her and searched the crowd until she met the familiar gaze of the elder twin. Vergil, her mind whispered. He had a slight smirk dancing on his lips as he tilted his head at her. She rolled her eyes and gave a slight shrug. The DJ started to play an upbeat rock song that Lady absolutely loved. So forgetting about Vergil at the bar, she went back to dancing.
She glanced back at the eldest son of Sparda and caught him gazing at her. She gave him a saucy wink then twirled back into the throng, away from his probing gaze.
Vergil glared at the spot where Lady stood. He downed the rest of his scotch, then headed out to brave the dance floor. A few women sent him appreciative looks, but he ignored them on his search for the spitfire with dark hair. He caught glimpses of her, here and there, but she seemed as a phantom, disappearing as soon as he neared.
He finally found her, dancing in the middle of the group of club goers, and slipped behind her, careful to mind her weapon.
"Hello," his breath fanned the hair near her ear.
Lady turned and met his heated gaze, "Hey, fancy seeing you here."
He smirked, "Same to you."
"Wanna dance?" she grinned, eyes flashing.
"Of course," he held out his hand. Once she took it, he pulled her flush against him.
"What are you doing later?" his voice was like liquid fire in her ears.
"Depends," she breathed out.
"On what?" he murmured.
"Mmm," he purred, "then I'll be sure to be on my best behaviour."
Lady gasped as he pressed an open mouthed kiss on the side of her neck. He then trailed small kisses up to her ear, giving the lobe a slight nip.
"I say we leave this drab place for somewhere better," he whispered into her ear.
"Like where?" she shivered.
"My place," he grinned darkly.
She bit her lip and watched his pupils dilate at the action.
She smiled, "Alright, let's go."
Vergil gave a feral smile and pulled her to him, "We're teleporting; it's much quicker."
She nodded feeling giddy as she inhaled his cologne and something distinctly him.
A small pop and they were gone.
Trish glanced over to Dante, who was seated to her left.
"You owe be twenty bucks," she gloated.
He grumbled sourly, "Here," he forked over the money.
She laughed as Dante headed back over to the bar
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