Here we go! Making this up as I go along, but I do have some idea for a plotline. Hopefully I can write all the characters as IC as possible. Also, I love to tell stories so I'm not going to rush into anything. IE: The buildup will be rather slow at first. Suggestions/comments are welcome! DISCLAIMER: I do not own Vergil, Dante, DMC, or anything else pertaining to that universe, save this story and my own characters.

Fire and Ice.

Chapter 1.

Considering the state of this hovel, Vergil was always surprised that Dante managed to know exactly where the paperwork for each and every case was. The elder twin glanced around without bothering to hide his contempt.

Pizza boxes and cans of tomato juice littered every available surface, and the smell coming from the kitchen left much to be desired. Directing a disgusted look towards his twin, Vergil began to tap an impatient finger on his thigh. Bloody idiot took far too long to read a simple job description.

Dante ignored the silent disapproval and concentrated on the paperwork sitting in front of him. He'd grown very used to his brother's attitude and, quite honestly, it amused him more than anything. He noticed Vergil looking around at the mess again and smirked slightly.

"...three...two...one," he thought to himself.

"This place is repulsive, Dante," Vergil said coldly.

"Yeah. Great, ain't it?" The red twin glanced around at his shop with a fond smile.

"Not the adjective I'd first choose to describe this, this...pigsty."

"You want a job or not, Verge?"

Vergil swept a hand back through his hair, straightening it, and huffed slightly. "Yes, yes." He replied reluctantly. Funds were getting rather low.

Dante snickered, "That's what I thought. And, looky here! I've got a great one for ya!"

"...I can hardly wait."

"No doubt! Listen up. This guy here," he tapped a finger on the paper, "is a buddy of mine. A hunter, like Lady and Lydia."

"Fascinating. So what?"

"Shut-up, wise ass. So, he's leaving town on a job and won't be back for a couple of weeks."

"I repeat: So what?"

Dante rolled his eyes, "I'm getting to that. Anyways, his daughter is coming to live with him. Problems with her mom, or some shit. Anyhow, ya know how demon hunters get attacked randomly throughout the day?"

"A hazard of the job, yes..." Vergil trailed off, uncertainly. He was beginning to become uneasy about the direction that this conversation was taking.

"Well, so do their loved ones. Long story short, he needs one of us to look after her until he can get back and protect her himself." Dante grinned.

"No. Absolutely not." Vergil stood up and made to leave.

"Aw, c'mon! It pays well, Verge. And you need more hair gel. I know you do."

The elder twin shot a glare at his brother and paused at the door. "You are deliberately offering me a job like this because you are well aware that I will not enjoy it."

Dante nodded eagerly, "Yeah. Also, it's the only one I have at the moment."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because, I thought I'd offer it to you. That's just the kind of awesome brother I am. Besides, I have a couple of other jobs lined up that I already said I'd do. Fun ones."

"Of course you do. Although, it surprises me that you'd pass up an opportunity to babysit some human girl. Given your propensity for 'pussy' and all."

"Are you kidding? She's strictly hands off! I gave my word to him that I wouldn't touch her!" Dante appeared aghast, but Vergil saw a gleam of mischief lurking in his eyes.

"No wonder you gave this job to me."

"Yeah, see? It's perfect! She'll be protected from demons and safe from my charms. Good thing, too. I saw her picture. She is cute."

"..."

"Well? You taking the job, or not?"

"Fine. What are the specifics?"

Dante glanced back down at the page and had to bite back a bark of laughter, "Hah! I never did read this whole thing. Says here that he'd prefer that you stay at his place, or, she come stay with you. Huh," Dante frowned a bit, "Constant guard duty. He must be pretty worried about her."

Vergil was not pleased. Initially, he'd thought he would only have to check up on this girl two or three times a day. "For how long?"

The younger twin leaned back and kicked his booted feet up on the desk. Shrugging, he replied, "'Til her dad gets back. She's coming in on one of the Red Eye flights tonight. You should be there to greet her. Hey! You could take one of those signs with her name written on it. Just like they do in the movies."

"..."

"Don't be a spoil-sport, Verge. You may be surprised. She just might be good company."

"I very much doubt that, Dante," He replied, heaving a sigh.

"Uh-huh. Whatevs. You better get going. Wouldn't want to leave her waiting at the airport all by her lonesome, now would you?"

"Can I at least have the file on her?" He asked, holding out a hand expectantly.

"Sure thing, bro," Dante said, tossing the folder at his twin.

Vergil caught it and flicked through it with disinterest. Finally, he nodded silently and headed out the door. Pausing only once, he turned his head to peer at Dante with one cold eye, "I'll get in touch when she's safely at my place."

"Sounds good, bro! And remember, keep your hands, and everything else, to yourself." Dante tossed him a wink and waved.

Not bothering to answer, the dark twin closed the door behind him.

You calmly walk down the portable hallway, towards the baggage claim area. The flight had been over eight hours and you just wanted to get home, settled and into bed. Granted, your father wouldn't be the one to welcome you. At the last minute, he'd called to let you know about a strange change of plans. Apparently, this fellow named "Dante" was going to be the one to escort you home from the airport. He'd sent a picture of this guy to you with his phone. You'd stared at it for a long while on the plane trip. He was... odd-looking. White shaggy hair. White. Not silver, but pure white. Light blue eyes, chin stubble, and all dressed in red.

Hrm.

He looked friendly enough, though. His blue eyes were kind and had a twinkle to them. And he was smiling in a charming sort of way. Still, your stomach had that hollow feeling. Nerves. You certainly didn't make it a habit to meet up with strangers in an airport this late at night. Ah well, such was the life you led. Both your mother and father were demon hunters, so you were used to life being rather hectic and unpredictable.

As the thought of your mother flashed through your head, your breath caught and you felt the hot prickle of tears start in the corners of your eyes. You hoped she would be alright. The attack had been bad. Bad enough that she was in the hospital. Bad enough that she sent you to live with your dad, fearing the demon would come back to kill you in revenge. Bad enough where she hadn't been able to kill said demon that she'd been sent to exterminate.

You swallow nervously. Would you be safe here? Of course, you would. Right? Your dad was a demon hunter, and as such, he knew the risks of leaving family members unprotected. He would most certainly leave you in the care of another decent demon hunter should he not be able to be here himself.

Right?

Sure he would. Besides, it wouldn't be for long. Just until your mom healed and was back on her feet. Then you could resume going to your college classes and finally be able to move on with your life. A wan smile stretched across your mouth.

Yeah right. There was an ominous foreboding weighing your shoulders down. Your mother had been vague on what kind of demon it had been, but you'd seen fear in her eyes. The woman was tough, and not many things frightened her.

Lost in your thoughts, you follow the sleepy-eyed passengers towards the large conveyer belts. Scattered luggage began to emerge from behind the flaps. One by one, they started to be claimed, leaving you standing with only a couple of others. As you wait for your bags, you glance around from time to time, trying to catch sight of this Dante character. You don't see anyone around, save for some security, a smattering of employees and a few passengers.

Wait.

There was someone coming right towards you now. Where had he come from? You could swear that there'd been no one in front of you a second ago. You stare at the approaching stranger. He looked like the guy in the photo. Same face, white hair, and icy blue eyes. Except that tonight he'd decided to dress in a long, dark blue trench coat with an intricate dragon-like design embroidered around the top. His hair wasn't tussled and messy, but slicked back and severely neat. And, as he got close enough, you could see no trace of good-humour in his pale eyes.

There was a sudden ruckus as an airport employee collided with a customer. Luggage scattered everywhere. "Dante" whipped his head towards the commotion and you could see that his hair was actually slicked back into a long, white pony-tail. This, however, was a moot point. A sudden flash of steel distracted your gaze from his head, and down towards his hand. A long, O-Katana in an ornate sheathe was slowly being slid back into place.

All this guy had was a sword? In this day and age? A lousy sword? Your face must have shown your dismay because he caught sight of it and his frown deepened.

"Something the matter?" He asked. Ice froze his tone.

Taken aback, you blink at him several times. "Pardon?"

"Which word are you having a difficult time with?" He asked.

You're stung and your mouth drops open. After a moment of incredulous silence, you manage to ask, "Are-are you Dante?"

"No. Come on. We're leaving now."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. I've no clue who you are," you retort.

His glare intensified. You didn't think it was humanly possible for some to appear even more unfriendly, but he somehow pulls it off. Your heart starts to beat a little harder. Yeah. Definitely nervous now.

"I am Vergil. Dante's brother. I've been assigned with the oh-so-enjoyable task of babysitting you whilst your father is away." He paused for a moment, eyes studying you intently. "Dante sends his apologies, but he had other engagements."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

The man, Vergil, shrugged. "You don't. Come with me or stay here, alone. It's none of my concern, really. I can always find some other contract to pay my bills." He turned on his heel and began to walk away without another word.

No! He couldn't just leave you here! Your dad had only moved here a few months ago. You had his address but you were entirely unfamiliar with this city. The idea of trying find a suitable bus route this late at night made you uneasy. As well as the thought of trying to hail a cab out on the street. Who knew if the people here were trustworthy? So far, Vergil was the only one who you knew, sort of, and seemed to know you. Or, about you anyhow. You needed a guide. He obviously knew this as well. And he honestly didn't seem to care whether you went with him or not. Hardly the behavior of someone bent on killing you.

"Wait!" You cry, trotting after him. Several people around you start at the sudden shout, tossing you surprised stares.

Vergil stops but doesn't turn around.

You catch up to him and give his sleeve a tug, trying merely to prevent him from getting any further away. "Alright! I'll go with you. But we have to wait for my bags and-"

You stop short when you see that he's not paying attention, but glaring coldly at your hand. Which is still gripping his sleeve. His angry eyes slowly raise to meet yours and you're surprised at the amount of venom in them.

You snatch your hand back with a small gasp. Ok. He didn't like being touched. Duly noted.

"Sorry," you murmur, shuffling your feet uncomfortably. As far as first meetings went, this one was turning out to be a disaster. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," he said abruptly, cutting you off. "Never do it again and, while we're at it, never argue with me again either. You'll find I have little patience. And do remember something once I've said it, for I sorely dislike repeating myself."

For the second time that evening, your mouth drops open. Was this unpleasant, bossy person really going to be your host for the next who knew how many days? Your heart begins pounding in apprehension again. This man was rather frightening in his cold, aristocratic, manner. In fact, his whole style seemed very out of place for this era, katana included. But, as you studied him further, it really did seem to suit him.

You must have been staring at him for too long, because the crease between his brow deepened. Suddenly, it was all too easy for you to imagine him calmly drawing that sword his carried and gutting you with it. Idly, you wondered if his brother was the same way. Or if he even had a brother. Would your father really want someone like this to look after you? What if it was all a trick?

Wonderful. This was going to be such a lovely time. You could already tell.

"Well? Don't dawdle. Get moving and gather your luggage. I find this place unappealing, and I'd like to leave as quickly as possible." Vergil straightened his cravat impatiently, and waved you on with his other hand.

"Uhm, ok. Would you at least like to know my name?"

"I can't imagine how it would matter, but if you must know, I already know your name. And your age, weight, height, address, what school you're currently attending, your class schedule, where you worked, your mother's name, your father's name and a number of other random, personal facts as well." He paused, arching a brow down at you in displeasure. "I can see you're not a quick learner so, just this once, I will repeat myself. Stop with the chattering nonsense and go get your luggage. Now. I won't tell you a third time."

You turn and go without another word, recognizing that further attempts at small-talk would be pointless and possibly hazardous. Spying your bags, a small smile lights your face as you eagerly go to collect them. There were only two, you liked to travel light. And, you'd saved a small sum of money from various part-time jobs. You could always purchase anything you might have forgotten.

Hefting them up, you walked back towards Vergil, who took them from you without comment. Surprised by the gesture, you follow him quietly after murmuring a soft, "Thank you."

"...Hn." Was the only response he offered.

His car was clean, polished,and nondescript. Vergil reached in his pocket and took out a set of keys, then opened the trunk and set your bags inside. Pressing a little button, the shrill beeping sound of the car door unlocking echoed in the large parking garage. Nodding towards the passenger door, he circled around you and climbed into the driver's side.

"... Alright," you mutter, following suit.

The interior was just as clean as the exterior. Somehow, this did not surprise you. Everything about this man screamed orderly and composed. As he pulled out of the spot and began to maneuver out of the garage, you toss a longing glance at the radio. Would he mind if you listened to some music?

"Leave the radio off, please," he said, following your gaze.

...that answered that.

The drive that followed was silent and uncomfortable. At least, it was for you. Vergil seemed not to even notice you were sitting beside him. He kept his eyes straight ahead, concentrating on the road.

After a while, however, something occurred to you "Uh, I don't mean to bother you, but do you need directions to my dad's house or anything? Because I'm not exactly familiar with-"

"I'm not going to your father's home."

You turn to stare at him, confused, but he doesn't offer anything else. After several awkward moments you finally ask, "Then where-"

Again, he interrupts you. "You'll be taking the spare room in my home." At your surprised glance, he went on, "I like my home. It is one of the very few places in which I feel comfortable, and I see no valid reason why I should have to stay elsewhere. Even temporarily."

You begin to shake your head. Heart fluttering in near panic at the sudden discovery that you will be bunking with a man you hardly knew. A man who obviously did not care for you, nor having to look after you. "But-"

"But nothing," Vergil's tone was harsh, tolerating no objection. "You've never lived here with your father. I don't believe you ever even been to visit, if I remember your file correctly. Ergo, You have no personal items to fetch, nor sentimental attachment to your father's dwelling. Except, of course, for the man himself. And he's not there currently."

You sit back in the car seat and fold your hands in your lap, willing yourself to remain calm and not say something rude. Again, it was too easy to imagine Vergil pulling the over and leaving you on the side of the road to fend for yourself.

Perhaps twenty minutes passed before he spoke again, "Almost there. There are rules if you're to be living, however briefly, in my house. Listen carefully, I'll only recite them once. While you stay with me I'll expect you to respect my home. Clean up after yourself and don't go snooping about. The only rooms you'll be allowed access to will be your bedroom and bathroom, as well as the kitchen, the dining area and the main living room. If I catch you in any other room at any time for any reason, rest assured I will not be kind to you."

"If this has been you being kind to me, I'd hate to see you when you're angry." The words were out before you could stop them. Oops. You toss him a quick, nervous glance out of the corners of your eyes and then stare back down at your hands.

The car's interior seemed to drop several degrees as he considered your semi-snide remark. "Yes. You would." Was all he said.

Chapter 2.

Upon arriving, Vergil gave you a short, blunt tour of his home. Or, at least, the rooms in which you were allowed. He ended with the bedroom that you'd be using. You give it a once-over. Bed, nightstand, desk, closet, window. That was it.

"There is an adjoining bath," he said, pointing towards a closed door. "It is late. Get some rest." He set your bags down, turned to leave, then paused and glanced back. "You're familiar with the phrase 'to be seen and not heard'?"

"Er, yes." You reply.

"I'd prefer it if you were neither seen nor heard." Vergil closes the door behind him, leaving you there speechless.

Far be it from you to demand to be waited on hand and foot, but would a slightly warmer greeting have been too much to ask?

Issuing an aggravated huff, you fall backwards onto the bed and close your eyes for a moment. It felt good to rest them. It'd been a long, difficult day. After a few moments, you open them up again and sat up, meaning to start unpacking. You give a start when you see sunlight peeking through the curtain. Had you fallen asleep?

A knock on the door makes you jump. "Time to get up. I'll not have you sleeping all day, I've errands to run and you're not to be left on your own." Departing footsteps.

Apparently, you had. Blinking, you get up and stretch. A hot shower sounded great and you pad towards the bathroom. It was as sparse as your bedroom, just the necessities and little else. The shower worked well enough, though, and soon the bathroom began to fill with steam.

A bit later, squeaky clean and refreshed, you make your way towards the kitchen, wondering if there was anything you could offer to make for breakfast or if you'd have to go shopping. Vergil sat at the small table in the dining room, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the paper.

"Good morning," you greeted.

He flicked his eyes up towards you then back down at the article he'd been reading, not bothering to respond.

You try again to make friends, "Can I make you anything for breakfast?"

No answer.

"I can cook fairly well," you go on hopefully. "And I like to. I used to make breakfast for my father when he and ma were together. I could make us some french toa-"

"Recall, if you will, the last thing I told you last night."

You stop and think. What had he said? Something about- Oh. Right. Slowly, a bit of resentment began to build in your chest. "Well, too bad."

That got his attention. He raised his eyes to stare at you once again. "Come again?"

"I said, 'too bad'." You reply, staunchly.

"'Too bad' what exactly?" Vergil asks softly, tone dark.

"It wasn't my idea to share your home. Nor was it my idea that father wanted me to be looked after. Also, it isn't my fault that ma got attacked and injured and sent me away. And you agreed to 'babysit' me. Of your own accord, I assume. You hardly look the type to be coerced into something.

"Now then, we're going to be sharing the same space for awhile, so being 'neither seen nor heard' will be difficult, if not impossible. And, quite frankly, it just isn't my style to walk on eggshells for no apparent reason. So," you clap your hands smartly, "you're just going to have to make the best of it. Same as I. So there. Nyah."

You stand there with your hands on your hips, jaw jutting out stubbornly. After a good night's rest, you were feeling imuch/i more like your usual self. Slowly, the stubborn expression fades and a kind smile stretches across your mouth. "Would you like me to make us some french toast?" You finish sweetly.

Vergil stares at you, nonplussed, seemingly as lost for words as you'd been the previous evening. You had not shown this sort of boldness last night. And, you were technically correct on all counts. But still, it was irritating and his hand itched for Yamato. "No." He finally answered. "I rarely eat in the mornings."

"Oh, you really should. Gives you a jump start on the day. Skipping meals isn't healthy," you smile and make your way towards the kitchen. "Can I have some of this coffee? I'll replace what I drink later. When I have a chance to go to the store."

"...Alright."

"Thank you," you chirp back, flashing a grand smile at him. "Oh, incidentally, do you have internet access? I've arranged it so some of my professors can send me assignments via email. Just so I don't fall too far behind."

"...No."

You eventually find the mugs and pour yourself a cup of coffee and begin to sip it, frowning slightly. This would put a damper on your plans. "Damn. I wonder if I can use one of your neighbors' connections..." you mutter, mostly to yourself.

You toss him a glance; he's still studying you from his seat at the table. Only, he'd set the paper down to give you his full attention. He almost seemed to be scrutinizing you. After a moment or two of mutual staring, you begin to feel your cheeks getting a bit flush. You drop your eyes first. "Well? What are you staring at?"

Vergil didn't answer, merely rose from his seat and went to rinse his mug out at the sink. "As I've said, I have a few errands to run today. Finish that and get ready."

"Where are we going?"

A soft sigh. "Must you ask so many questions?"

"Yes."

Another considering glance and a short silence. "I told Dante that I'd open the shop for him this morning."

"So there is a Dante. I was wondering about that. My father sent a picture of him so I'd know who was picking me up. You two must be twins." You drain the rest of the coffee and rinse out your cup much as he did, figuring imitation would be proper protocol. "I'm done. Just let me go get my shoes."

You hurry to your room.

"So, uh...this is a business?" You ask hesitantly.

"Barely," was the reply.

The shop, if you could believe the sign above the door, was called Devil May Cry. Interesting name. Briefly, you wonder what it meant. The inside, however, was a bit of a ...dump. This Dante must not be big on housekeeping. The mess was astonishing. You watch as Vergil brushes the seat of the chair off, before taking a seat behind the desk. He begins to go through some paperwork, ignoring you once again.

Minutes pass and you begin to get restless. "Ah, do you need me to do anything to help?"

"No."

"What should I do then?"

"Whatever you wish. Just don't go wandering away, I've no urge to chase you around town."

"How long are we going to stay?"

"Until Dante arrives to relieve me."

"Which is when?" You hop onto the edge of the desk next to him, hook your ankles together and begin to swing your legs back and forth.

"Whenever he arrives. Dante isn't very particular about schedules," Vergil shoots a disapproving glower your way.

You raise your eyebrows, "Is my sitting here, bothering you? I'd take the couch but it looks kind of, well, gross."

His brow creased but before he could answer, the bell above the door tinkled, signaling a customer. Both of you turn to look, simultaneously. It was a woman with shaggy black hair, huge sunglasses and a bazooka. Swords and bazookas and white-haired men. In less than a day. Your mouth drops open yet again.

The woman marches in, beginning to speak even before looking at either of you, "Dante, that job's done. Cleaned all those motherfuckers out. Got my new boots caked in demon guts though, so I'll send you the cleaning bi- Oh. Hello Vergil." She stops short and turns to look at you, expression vaguely curious.

"Hello, Mary."

"Stop fucking calling me that!" The woman, Mary, exploded. In a flash, she'd covered the distance between the door and the desk, and was pointing a gun at Vergil's forehead. "It's Lady, and you know it!"

Vergil calmly reaches up to push the gun away, "My apologies."

"Who are you?" Lady demands, pulling her sunglasses down a bit. You notice that she was odd-eyed, they were two different colors. Kind of pretty.

After the initial surprise at her violent reaction wears off, you jump off the desk and hold your hand out, a pleasant smile on your face. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm-"

"Oh! Right." Lady interrupts dismissively, waving a hand. "You're that girl that Dante pawned off on Vergil."

You frown a bit and withdraw your hand. "Yeah. That's me." Your tone is much less friendly this time around. "'That girl."

Lady arches a brow, "Problem?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Again, nice to meet you. Mary."

Lady bristles but Vergil interjects, "Is there something you needed, Lady?"

"Naw," she responds, after glaring at you for a second more. "Just another job for the books. Need the numbers?"

"Yes," Vergil reaches for a pen and proceeds to take down the expenses of the job versus the pay.

Lady turns to watch you again. After a moment, "So, what's your story anyhow?"

"Oh, so you're interested now?" You ask, still rather put-off. You were beginning to wonder if anyone around here was at all friendly.

"Yeah. Not many people would be willing to be a smart-ass to someone carrying a rocket launcher." Lady replies, leaning back onto the desk.

"I guess. What do you want to know?"

"Well, first of all, how's it been bunking with him?" She jerks a thumb at Vergil and smirks a bit.

You beam, "It's been just super."

Lady grins but Vergil shoots another glare your way.

"Yes. We've really hit it off. Can't you tell?" You go on, lifting your chin in his direction.

"I can. Well, here, a bit of advice; be careful. His bite is way worse than his bark." Her grin widens slightly.

"If you two are quite finished, I've your portion of pay, Lady." Vergil snaps, tone laden with impatience.

The woman holds her hand out without looking at him. Vergil slaps several bills into her waiting palm, and puts the rest away in a lock box. "Anything else? Or do you feel the need to babble on incessantly about nothing a bit more?"

Lady holds up one finger at him and turns her attention back to you. You hold back a giggle. It made you feel a tiny bit better knowing that Vergil apparently treated everyone the same. Not just you, specifically.

"Just wondering," she continued, "ever fought a demon before?"

You shake your head, wide-eyed. "No. Ma kept me sheltered and well-protected. I've never even seen a demon."

Lady stares for a minute, disbelief on her features. "You better learn if you're going to be hanging around Vergil and Dante, then." Abruptly, she turns and walks out without saying goodbye.

"Uhm, alright. Bye," you murmur to the door.