JL Sigman (jlsigman) wrote in fictunes, @ 2008-12-06 17:50:00 |
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Current mood: | accomplished |
Entry tags: | fandom: devil may cry, month: dec 08, writer: jlsigman |
Re-Opening Present [Devil May Cry, R]
Title: Re-Opening Present
Author: jlsigman
Rating: R
Warnings: language, mentions of sex
Word count: 871
Prompt: Gift, and “Future In My Hands” by rungran
A/N: Cat is an OC of mine (you'll see more of her next month in no_true_pair). This is set 15 – 20 years after Devil May Cry 4, and currently she and Dante are partners in work and play. The short version of the backstory to this piece is that Dante's shop got trashed while they were on the run, and now they're faced with the clean-up.
“What a fucking mess.”
Cat was the master of understatement, but this time Dante thought she wasn't even close. It wasn't just a mess, it was a disaster, a catastrophe, and an end of the world event all rolled up into one big fucking mess in his shop. Mike and his group didn't leave too many things untouched in their rampage: all of his furniture had been reduced to matchsticks, most of his electronics were gone or destroyed, and from the smell they done something obscene to his refrigerator.
The only things that hadn't been damaged were the more sentient of the demonic weapons. Cat walked over to the corner were Nevan had been knocked off her stand (which had then been destroyed) and saw several splotches of blood on the walls. A couple of scorch marks nearby showed how Agni and Rudra had defended themselves. The most eerie area was the pristine circle around Sparda's sword. Cat didn't want to know what had happened there, and propped Nevan's guitar form against the wall before moving on.
Neither she nor Dante seemed to know how to start making the place livable again. Everywhere they turned was chaos and crap all mixed up and splattered against everything. She sighed. He hunched into his coat like something hurt in his chest for a couple of heartbeats before straightening again.
His desk had been pissed against and shit on, but the picture of his mother was thankfully unharmed. He picked it up and looked at it a long moment before smiling ever so slightly and tucking it into one of his pockets. He scanned the walls, ignoring the obscene graffiti, and landed on a smashed in frame. His mood plunged again as he realized what it had been. Cat followed him to see what it had been.
Dante brushed the broken glass away that had protected an old vinyl record and it's cover. He seemed lost in memories, reliving whatever had gotten him that particular prize in the first place. She knew it bad been an album of some kind, but one that had never been touched by the needle of his now missing jukebox. “Former girlfriend's album?” she tried to joke.
His lips barely turned up momentarily. “Something like that,” he said, not looking at her. He sighed. “Won't find anything like that again.” He looked at it a moment longer, then suddenly threw it across the room. “Why I hang on to old shit like that...” He trailed off and stomped into the kitchen.
Cat watched him go, nose twitching. Then she went to where the frame had landed to see what she could salvage. While the vinyl was completely shattered, the cover had only been slashed. She carefully used an extended claw to pick the glass apart, sheathing it and picking up the flimsy cardboard when she could get it out in two pieces. The words on it were as incomprehensible as most new words were to her. But she didn't have to be able to read it, as long as the guy in the record shop she knew about could. As Dante ranted about the state of his kitchen she slipped out the door. In the state he was in it would be a couple of hours before he noticed she was gone, and she should be back by then.
It took a little longer than she had expected to find everything she was looking for, but the guarantee of service was worth it. To make up for being gone she brought take-out from Dante's favorite pizza place, several six-packs of beer even she would drink, and a stolen (although he didn't need to know that) box containing six one-liter bottles of expensive whiskey; all of which put him in such a good mood he very quickly forgot everything but paying her back by using his mouth on her mouth, and then her breasts, and then her pussy.
A week later the shop was available to take customers again, although it looked a bit bare. Dante was waiting for the phone to ring when Cat came through the door after vanishing an hour or so earlier. She was carrying a boom-box by its handle, and he rolled his eyes. “Please don't tell me you're going to scare off my customers with that dance hall techno bullshit you like,” he groaned.
“Shut the fuck up,” she retorted fondly, to which he sighed dramatically and spun his new desk chair around so he wasn't watching her. She smiled to herself as she pulled a CD out of her coat pocket and put it in and pressed play.
It only took a few notes of the opening guitar solo to get him to jump out of his chair and nearly kneecap himself on his new desk. “How – where - “ he stammered as he stumbled into her arms.
She twined her arms around his neck. “I know a few people,” she purred as he picked her up. “Thought it would be a nice gift for the place re-opening.”
He carried her over to the chair, and as they broke it in he indicated it was a very nice gift indeed.