Show me yours, I'll show you mine, Bleach/Devil May Cry, (Dante/Orihime)
Title: Show me yours, I'll show you mine Author: shiegra Rating: PG13 Wordcount: 544 A/U: It is nowhere near as exciting as the title makes it sound.
Prompt: Crossover: Bleach/Devil May Cry - Orihime/Dante - surprises - it takes two to play
He came bleeding into her shop one early evening, and her smile fled into wide-eyed dismay as she looked up and spotted him, red hair spilling loosely over her shoulders as she straightened and wiped her hands against her skirt, lunging forward.
His hand closed around the warm hilt of a sword and he shook bloody hair out of his eyes and snarled, "get back" as she came close.
Orihime recoiled, lovely eyes wide, and threw a glance out the glass window of her store. One more store he'd be billed for--and one more friend he'd lose, he would bet. Rage pulled him to his feet even as wounds protested, and he stepped forward, the air crackling with heat.
Then she was in front of him again, hands planted against his chest, scowling. "Get down!" She ordered in a crisp voice, and when he started to protest she shoved him and simultaneously put an ankle behind his.
Any other day he would have avoided it easily, but blood loss landed him on his ass, cursing. Orihime beamed proudly at him and then turned as concrete grated and broke in front of the store, skirt rustling.
"Oi--" He started, and then she extended a hand almost negligently and spoke, the fast paced ripple of words carving into the air like stone. The little glittering clips in her hair woke to brilliant and the air lit up with the demon's enraged howl.
That was the point that he passed out.
He woke up to Orihime leaning over him as she reached for something over his head, which wasn't a bad morning by any means, and in a room that smelled like baking and gardenias.
She looked delighted when she saw his open eyes. "You're alive!" She observed happily. "I was so worried. After the night--"
"You--the demon--" He came upright in bed, feeling new skin flex over his shoulders, and twisted to scan her for wounds. "What the hell happened?"
She waved a hand airily. "Nothing important! I wouldn't let it get in the shop so it got all testy until that nice lady in the black leather stopped by and chopped it in half. Then I healed you--"
"Healed me?" He looked down at himself. "How long has it been?"
"Five hours." She examined him thoughtfully. "You've been asleep for a very long time, mister. I was worried."
He scanned her with a sharper eye, from bare toe to wide-eyed head. "How did you stop it from getting in the shop? Who are you?"
Orihime beamed at him again. "Who are you? Why was it trying to kill you? And that's a really cool sword."
He looked at her, and she looked back, and the words that eventually came out were what he'd headed out that morning to ask. "Is the special still available?"
"Of course." She patted his hand, her smile impish. "On the house, for the excitement." Then she kissed his forehead as she got up, briefly enveloping him in her warmth and the curtain of her hair. "Then we'll have stories." She added as she swept out the door and left him staring at the wall and the strangest painting of a robot he'd ever seen.