Author's note: Dante and Trish were guest-stars in Viewtiful Joe 1, and in that game Alastor, the sword Dante fights with in DMC1, is given "human" form.

Disclaimer: do any of you seriously think I own Devil May Cry and Viewtiful Joe? ;-P

Dante, son of Santa.

Hundreds and hundreds of people running in all directions, pushing and trampling each other. Loud noises and shouts and children's cries all over the place. Chaos and greed almost tangible.

Dante groaned. He hated shopping malls during Christmas Season.

Regardless, he had to go through all that to find suitable presents for Trish and Alastor, or there would have been an even worse Hell to pay.

He sighed, remembering the good old times, when the only person he had to get a Christmas present to was Lady. A real lady indeed, one that didn't care what you got her because it was the thought that counted.

Then, eight months ago, Trish and Alastor entered the picture, and the good times were lost forever.

Trish didn't know what being ladylike meant. But she had made very clear that she did know countless imaginative ways to break one's backbone if her present didn't satisfy her.

Alastor hadn't been as straightforward, but he managed to convey just as clearly the message that he would NOT tolerate anything not carefully chosen for him, and would hold a grudge for a very, very long time if his present was disappointing.

Sighing, Dante resumed his search.

------------------------------

Four hours, dozens of stores and countless glares from stressed employers later, the only thing Dante had gotten was a headache.

He needed a drink. A strong drink in a quiet, solitary place, where he could think of his next move. Leaving for the Caribbean and coming back in February sounded nice.

He left the main mall and entered a small deserted alley, looking for a source of much-needed alcohol and tranquillity.

As he walked, he noticed that the alley wasn't that deserted after all. His superior demonic hearing picked up a sound whose very purpose from the Dawn of Time was to draw attention and choruses of "awwww!": the sound of a child's sobs. He quickly spotted the source: a child who looked about five years old, crouched in a dark corner, with his face covered by his arms. Not one to ignore tears, Dante approached him, startling him.

"You all right kid? Are you lost?"

The child didn't reply. He just gaped at Dante, wide-eyed and completely still, holding his breath.

Seconds passed, and Dante started to worry. Had he petrified him? He didn't look that threatening, did he? He had always thought he looked gorgeous, the kind of guy mothers all over the World would point at when telling their children "and that's how you'll grow up to be like if you eat your veggies!"

Just when he was about to poke him to see if that would elicit any response, the child shouted.

"SANTA!".

Now it was Dante's turn be frozen in place, while the child went on with his rant.

"OH, SANTA! YOU CAME! YOU REALLY CAME! JUST LIKE MUM TOLD ME! I WAS A GOOD BOY AND YOU CAME!"

With a powerful display of will, Dante managed to utter a reply.

"I… am not… Santa."

"Aren't you?" The child asked incredulous. "But you look just like mum told me Santa does."

"I… am not… Santa."

The child stared at him in silence, carefully examining him. Then, he smiled.

"Of course! You're too young and thin to be Santa!"

Dante let out a sigh of relief.

"You must be the son of Santa!".

Dante froze again.

"Santa sent you because he is too busy making the toys for all the good children in the World and can't come. So you are going to help my dad instead".

Dante looked at the child, who was smiling from ear to ear and whose eyes were filled with utter innocence and adoration, and decided that a little white lie wouldn't hurt anybody. He cleared his voice, trying to summon a convincing tone.

"Yes, I am the son of Santa. You can call me Dante. So my father sent me because he received your letter. But I didn't read it. Can you tell me what it was about?"

"Of course! I asked him to help my dad, because the bad man took him away."

"Bad man?" Dante started to think that maybe pretending to be Santa's son wasn't such a good idea after all. He had the unpleasant suspicion that the child's father had been arrested by the police or something.

The child's expression turned very sad, and he looked like he was going to start crying again. "One night I woke up, and heard a weird noise from dad's study. I went there to see what was going on, and I found the bad man. He was all black, like a shadow! I rushed to mum and dad's bedroom to tell them, but only mum was there sleeping, dad was nowhere! When mum and I went back to dad's study, the bad man was gone. We couldn't find dad anywhere. Even the police couldn't find him." He was crying now. "The bad man took dad away. But nobody believes me, not even mum. We had a fight this morning, and I ran away."

Dante had enough experience as a demon hunter to know how dangerous a shadow could be. This was definitely something he should investigate.

------------------------------

The Devil Never Cry office was almost in order for the first time since Dante had started living in it. Trish had given up trying to keep it tidy during the eight months she had been living with Dante, as he managed to produce trash faster than she could remove it, so after much struggle she had finally decided that it just wasn't worth it, and that she could live with only her personal room clean. But Christmas was different. Especially THIS Christmas.

This Christmas was extremely important, not only because it was her very first Christmas, but also because she would finally meet the (in)famous Lady!

Lady, who fought by his side 10 years before. Lady, who despite her human nature managed to fight against demons. Lady, who Dante was so fond of. Lady, who was so beautiful in that picture with the newly opened Devil May Cry office.

Without realizing it, Trish ground her teeth.

Like Hell she would look like a lout in front of Lady! The Devil Never Cry office was going to freaking SHINE for Christmas, even if she had to threaten Dante with excruciatingly grievous bodily harm to have him not dirty it at least until Lady left!

Thankfully, Alastor was giving her a hand with the cleaning. With his help, she would manage to get the office perfectly tidy and adorned with Christmas decorations by the evening.

She was really glad Dante had invited him over to spend the Christmas Season with them.

------------------------------

Getting inside the study had been easy enough.

After finding the child's house, Dante had managed to convince the child's mother that he was a private detective, and that he may be able to help her if she just answered a few questions and let him take a look at the house.

She was very angry at her child (who, while leading Dante, had introduced himself as Andy Oltean) for running away, but she accepted with gratitude Dante's offer to investigate her husband's disappearance, and gave him all the info he needed, plus the permission to examine her house.

Turned out her husband was a perfectly normal person, an English teacher with no desire to become a demon nor to open a portal to Hell, and whose most dangerous enemies were the junior high students he used to give bad scores to.

Three weeks ago, for no apparent reason, he disappeared, without leaving the faintest trace.

Dante's search for clues went on for almost an hour, and besides the milk and cookies Andy brought him, it didn't draw out anything. The study was just as normal as its owner.

Feeling discouraged, Dante let himself sink into the comfy chair next to the desk. His eyes fell on the books in front of him. Not ancient or demonic books, just English books, the ones the missing Mr. Oltean used to work with. They were as normal as everything else in that house, and he casually picked up one and leafed through it, liking the well-thumbed pages with occasional small tears. He liked less the sharp edges of the pages, especially when he accidentally cut his thumb.

Cursing silently, he put the book down. The cut immediately healed, but a tiny drop of blood had fallen onto the desk, staining it, and he didn't have anything to clean the stain with. He went to ask Andy for a damp napkin.

Damp napkin in hand, Dante reentered the room. The stain was nowhere to be seen. And the little paperweight had moved.

Dante stood dumbfounded for a split second, blinked, and then looked closely at the paperweight. It looked like a normal paperweight. Just a rough, dark figurine of a crouched man, an ornament fairly common for desks.

Only usually rough, dark figurines used as paperweight didn't have shimmering purple eyes. And you didn't feel like you couldn't stop staring at them.

And why would one want to stop staring at it, anyway? It was so beautiful. Its outlines were becoming more and more defined, its colour the most awesome shade of black. Who cared if the rest of the World was becoming blurred? Nothing else mattered but the supreme being that was smiling at him, the most beautiful sight that had ever graced his eyes. His mind was filled with lulling tunes, his lips curled in a blissful smile. He felt at peace, so calm, so light, and so very, very tired… And he closed his eyes.

And then the room was empty.