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Lady was so preoccupied with her thoughts on the way out of the bathroom at the Devil May Cry main branch that she almost bodily ran into an unexpected visitor at the agency before taking notice of his presence.
Standing almost perfectly still enough to be able to pass for a mannequin was a person whose face she wouldn’t be able to mistake. Yet this person’s features and attire made it painfully obvious that he wasn’t the one she was used to seeing within these premises.
The Japanese sword at his waist made it even more glaringly obvious that this was not Dante but the other individual sharing the same face and blood running through his veins as the legendary devil hunter.
In the first moment, upon seeing Vergil standing inconspicuously in the furthest corner of the premise from her within the Devil May Cry office, Lady bristled and her guard went up instinctively. Her fingers twitched slightly over the gun holster on her right leg. But before she could do anything that could instigate a reaction from the unexpected guest, she reined in her temper.
Of course, she did hear from Dante upon his return several weeks ago (after his having been gone for the good part of year) that the only reason he was able to come back was because both he and Vergil had gone to the other side. His explanation for how they’d actually made it back didn’t make much sense to Lady but it didn’t particularly matter to her too much either.
They must have also reached some kind of tentative truce or agreement, because Dante had also explicitly asked both her and Trish not to attack him on sight if and when they ran into Vergil - be it in town or anywhere else.
This had been a peculiar request in Lady’s eyes—especially since Vergil had been the reason why the whole city had been in uproar and the stage of hell on earth—but she hadn’t persisted on the matter.
She had been made to promise not to attack him and, thankfully, he had previously given her no chance to go back on her word.
Now that they were within the same space as one another, she could tell that her will was being tested, in a sense. Although, when she pulled her head out of her semi-murderous reverie, she couldn’t help but notice that the man in question seemed to take a miniscule step back and it seemed to her that he was trying to appear as unassuming as possible.
She raised a curious eyebrow at him as she stepped away from the bathroom threshold and towards the desk. Her approach made Vergil’s guard go up just barely perceptibly, and the only tell was that a muscle along his jawline twitched slightly as he scowled in the general direction of a spot to the left of her feet.
She scrutinized him quietly a bit longer while leaning against the desk, her arms resting on either side of her hips and supporting her weight. Upon closer look, she could tell—just barely because he had so successfully wiped all emotion from his face it was nearly impossible to decipher—that he looked uncomfortable. Awkward, even. It was like he was trying to blend in with the background of the agency - that’s how still he was standing.
Albeit he hadn’t a single hope of that happening - not with that long leather black coat of his that clashed violently with the rest of the room. His presence within the office made him about as covert as an elephant tramping through a jewelry store.
Lady watched Vergil across the room silently for a bit longer, trying to gauge him.
“Well, this is certainly an unexpected visit,” she announced to no one in particular because the guest at the agency was pretending he wasn’t there. Or he was pretending that she wasn’t there - she couldn’t quite tell which it was.
She’d meant it in the way of an icebreaker, but the utter silence and lack of reaction her pseudo-greeting met with worked in exactly the opposite way of what she had intended.
“Are you looking for Dante?” Her question was a bit redundant but not entirely—because maybe he was coming here looking for Trish or Nero. She could never know.
After all, those four had a peculiar bond and dynamic between them that she could never hope to fathom.
Her query was met with a tense, resounding silence.
During normal circumstances, the way he was acting as if he was ignoring her existence or the fact she was speaking to him might have pissed her off in no time flat. But she did promise Dante that if she ever ran into his brother, she would not be going at him, guns blazing, unless he did something to actively provoke her.
And in this case, all Vergil was doing was looking everywhere except at her and pretending she wasn’t even in the room. Not exactly a provocation. If he deigned her unworthy of speaking to, that was his business and his problem. She merely attempted to make conversation with him because of how awkward it was to stay in perfect silence otherwise. If he didn’t want to meet her halfway, she wasn’t gonna waste her breath any further.
She shrugged and pushed herself off of the desk’s top to walk around it and sit down in the chair.
“Well, if you are, he said he’d be here in about an hour almost an hour ago. So he should be here any minute.”
This last piece of information earned her a quiet grunt of sorts from Vergil in his broody corner. His eyebrows were knitted tightly together and his expression had clouded over a bit - likely at the mention of his brother and his tardiness being the reason for him having to be subjected to her presence for who knows how long.
Lady picked up the file she had been studying before venturing into the bathroom and placed it as a sort of barrier between herself and the half-demon in the room. She proceeded to take a leaf out of Vergil’s book and pretend that he wasn’t there at all.
His edginess was making the silence in the room so thick it could be cut with a knife. Not that it was affecting Lady at all though, mind you - she had made an attempt to be civil, only to have it deflected completely by this man’s standoffishness.
She wasn’t about to go out of her way trying to entice him to conversation to make his wait for Dante any easier.
When the legendary devil hunter did burst through the door of the agency, it was with a jolly step and a merry demeanor that clashed painfully with the strained atmosphere in the premise.
“Oh, hey, Lady! Fancy seeing you here. Hey, have you seen—”
In the middle of his question, Dante noticed that Lady was pointing to the darkest corner of the room. Curiously, he shifted his gaze to the side and gave a surprised squawk when he was met with Vergil’s stormy glare from that same corner.
“Vergil! You’re already here, that’s great!” He gushed unapologetically, completely immune to the death glare he was being subjected to by his twin.
“You. Are. Late.” Vergil spat out through his clenched teeth, enunciating every syllable of each word as he approached his brother menacingly slowly. “Is punctuality not a part of your dictionary? It’s in very poor taste to name a time and meeting place yourself, and then be late for it, you bumbling fool.”
The stark contrast that Dante’s confused expression made when in close proximity with his brother’s ire made for a very amusing sight, Lady observed from her vantage point across the room. The devil hunter was not doing himself any favors by theatrically checking his wrist watch.
“I am only late by, what, ten minutes? Not sure that even counts as being late in a city as large as this one. What’s the big deal?”
Lady did not get to find out how that conversation went, because Vergil growled at his brother and shoved past him on his way out the door. Dante shrugged in nonplus at her and then dashed off after him.
Although Lady had no idea just how averse Vergil was to people being tardy on principle, she was a hundred percent certain that a large part of his sour mood was owing to the fact that he had to be in the same room as her without having expected her to be there. For the entirety of those ten eternally long minutes that Dante was late by, no less.
It wasn’t technically their first meeting (she did try to kill him during their first encounter after all, those twenty-ish years ago), but for the first time, she had been in the same space as the man and not been on a warpath against him.
In that sense, she believed that their first “civil” meeting could be considered a time for gathering proper first impressions.
And as far as first impressions went, she couldn’t claim that hers of Vergil were stellar.
The man seemed to have a chip on his shoulder about the size of the moon, but if he kept a safe distance from her and didn’t try to get in her face about anything, she could adopt a Live and Let Live kind of philosophy with him.
She had believed that the first run-in with Vergil at the Devil May Cry main branch had been a freak coincidence. To begin with, she believed that Vergil had no business with DMC, and even more so, that the times she would ever have the chance of running into him there would be exactly never after that first encounter.
Her surprise to see Vergil in that same corner of the agency a couple of weeks later was immense. She nearly did a double-take upon seeing him lurking in the furthest part of the room, looking as broody and stormy as ever.
Now this was starting to become a curious precedent.
“Oh, you’re here again,” she said in an informal greeting.
Instead of receiving any response to her colloquial salutation, all she got was a scathing glare from Vergil in his corner.
Although he was (very obviously so) upset—the lines of his jaw were once again very tense, witness to his teeth being clenched tight; his brows knitted together over his stormy features—Lady couldn’t help but find the situation a bit amusing.
After all, she knew for a fact that this was at the very least the second time that Vergil had been made to wait for his brother who was once again standing him up for however long a time. The idea of Dante practically forcing Vergil to stand around idly on his turf and the latter being powerless to stop him from it just brought some kind of smug satisfaction to Lady, thought-wise.
She couldn’t help but wonder how exactly it was that Dante was achieving this kind of feat. After all, she honestly couldn’t imagine—what little of him she knew, and from bits and conversations she had overheard between Dante and Nero—that Vergil would be a man who would willingly subject himself to being treated in a way he deemed unjust.
Since their first altercation at the DMC office two weeks ago, she was absolutely certain that Vergil did not appreciate being made to wait—especially in the presence of others.
Yet now, only two measly weeks later, he was loitering around waiting on Dante again. Something didn’t add up in her mind.
“Did you lose a bet or something?” she couldn’t help but wonder aloud, arriving at the only solution that could make sense as an explanation to this puzzling situation.
After all, there was no way other than him having lost some bet that Vergil would agree to have himself yanked by the chain by his brother, of all people. The only situation in which she could see this as plausible was if he had lost a bet of some sort and was forcefully made to submit to whatever fate Dante decided to place upon him.
Her question earned her a very heated, visceral glare from the man across the room. She could almost swear that she could feel electricity crackling in the air from the tension Vergil was emanating in that very moment. He bristled so hard that it seemed like his spiky hair stood even more on end than normally.
“That is none of your business, woman,” he snarled at her, expression clouded over with rage.
His feral reaction told her everything she really needed to know without him breathing a word of actual response.
So it wasn’t a bet that he’d lost but a fight, most likely against Dante. She had heard that they had sorted out their sibling rivalry for the time being, but she could imagine that brothers who had been on each other’s throats for decades would need more than a year of endless scuffling to actually learn to be properly civil with each other.
Not to mention, she could already see that Vergil was a very obstinate, very immutable object. For Dante, likely the only way to be able to get through to his brother was by using the only thing he seemed to recognize - force. She could perfectly picture in her mind’s eye a Dante who would attempt to bond with his long-lost-now-somewhat-found twin, only to be met with the utter lack of desire to be met halfway there by Vergil.
And as such, she could also perfectly well picture that if Dante wanted to do something with his brother, he would stake it as a result of some spar.
If Vergil had lost a spar or two, it would make sense for his bristling attitude now at her mention of it.
She did not appreciate his show of hostility at her question, but considering how she herself did not enjoy having her failures shoved in her face, she decided not to hold it against him.
What she would hold against him, though, was something else that made an impression on her and pushed her buttons all wrong.
“That’s Lady to you,” she informed him coolly, her icy tone starting to bring down the temperature of the room steadily.
Vergil’s infuriated expression wavered slightly, clouded over by confusion at what in the world she was saying. Obviously, he had a very one-track mind, this one. Easily derailed when not having his provocation getting the expected reaction from her.
“I am not “woman”. If you talk to me, you can call me Lady - that’s the name I go by.”
Her expression was as stony as his had been when she walked in. She didn’t give him even an inch of ground when they locked gazes in a stand off of wills. It was the first time she had had the chance to look into his eyes ever since he’d come back with Dante (because he had been dodging her gaze the previous time they met).
If not for what an annoying prick he was being by calling her “woman” all condescendingly like, she would’ve been able to appreciate the ethereal grayish blue color of his eyes in that moment.
But since she was too agitated by his dismissive address of her, all she did focus on was the fact that despite having bristled at her question, Vergil slowly but steadily settled down when his issued challenge through his searing glare was met head on by her utter refusal to yield in her heterochromatic gaze.
After a full minute or two, Vergil’s squared shoulders relaxed with some of the tension leaving them, and he snorted derisively, breaking their stare down when he shifted his gaze away towards the window across from him.
Lady had introduced herself formally, in a sense, so that any further attempts on Vergil’s end to address her by a general characteristic of hers instead of her actual name would be fair game for her to get cross with him about.
After all, she couldn’t exactly blame him if he didn’t know her name, but now he was out of excuses. Her warning had been clear - he either used her name, or he didn’t sass her. It was a pretty understandable message, she believed.
She was a self-respecting demon hunter and she’d worked hard to earn her keep. He would do well to show her some respect for that, the bastard. She didn’t particularly care if he was Dante’s brother or some over-glorified demon - in this house and in her presence, she would not stand to be disrespected.
“And if you’re looking for Dante again, he was just with me before he got called to run an errand for a client. He ran off somewhere without saying much.” She waved her hand dismissively over her shoulder as she turned around to head towards the jukebox. “No ETA on his arrival, I’m afraid.”
Once one of Lady’s most favorite CDs’ music started playing, she settled comfortably in the chair at the desk and gestured at the sofa in the room.
“Feel free to make yourself comfortable while you wait for him, I guess.”
Honestly, it was the best she could offer. Chasing Vergil out of the shop was just brutish—plus, if he wasn’t in her face, she didn’t particularly mind him waiting around in the corner or sitting on the sofa while she was conducting her research for her next gig. She also didn’t particularly see the harm in him following her suggestion. She wasn’t going to bite him or anything, unless he gave her a reason to do so, after all.
“I decline,” he told her coolly, turning around with a swish of his coat tail.
Lady shrugged to herself and took up her files. “Suit yourself.”
Vergil marched with a decisive step towards the door but right as his hand laid upon the door handle, he paused mid-stride. She saw him halt in his tracks and lifted her gaze to look at his back that was facing her.
She saw the moment when he turned his head to the side, mouth opening to take a breath to say something. However, before he verbalized it, he seemed to reconsider. He kept whatever he had planned to say to himself, and mutely walked out of the room with notable grace.
Lady wasn’t particularly sure what to make of this encounter, but he wasn’t exactly improving her first impression of him.
After those first couple of times, somehow the occasions in which Lady and Trish ran into Vergil at the Devil May Cry main branch started piling on.
Sometimes, he would appear, silent as the descending night, waltzing in through the front door while Lady, Trish and Dante were in the middle of a conversation. Other times he would be standing outside of the store, lying in ambush for Dante if there was nobody inside the agency.
Nevertheless, after the first few encounters, despite not speaking to her on any of the occasions, he did start sending her a grudging nod of affirmation across the room whenever their gazes met upon his arrival.
She wasn’t particularly sure what to make of that, because the nod was barely perceptible but it was definitely there. He didn’t say a word of recognition to her but he didn’t stand as much on edge in her presence anymore either.
After she had gathered enough impressions to be able to draw a conclusion, Lady surmised that she had likely earned his grudging recognition—either for her existence or for her place within this agency, she wasn’t sure. But at any rate it did serve to make the tension in the room whenever she was in it and he was, too, dissipate significantly.
A few of the times when Dante was later than usual (or Vergil was earlier than usual? The latter seemed highly unlikely) he would even take a seat on the sofa and rigidly wait for his brother to show up. On those occasions, even though he didn’t give off as much animosity in his corner as he used to in the beginning, his barbs at Dante were always quite sharp and sometimes even managed to hit their mark with the devil hunter.
Then there was also that one time when she had been heading up to the second floor to leave off some knickknack that she had gathered on her latest mission that she still had to figure out what to do with. While wrestling with the heavy box up the stairs on her own, she vaguely heard behind her that the half-demon brothers made their entry, arguing about something amongst themselves.
“I have already told you repeatedly, Vergil. I gave you Nero’s address, too - I know you still keep it with you. Go see him on your own time if you want something from him - I am not going to play your postal pigeon.” Dante’s aggravated drawl came from downstairs where he was rustling some papers on his desk looking for something.
Whatever Vergil said in response to his statement, Lady couldn’t hear, because the answer was hissed out between Vergil’s clenched teeth and spoken in hushed tones obviously meant only for Dante to hear.
On the first floor, Dante rolled his eyes in exasperation at his brother.
“Look, man, I don’t know how many times you want me to tell you the same thing. I don’t know where it is. I haven’t seen it since you last had it. If you left it with Nero, then go see him to take it back.”
Whatever it was that they were arguing about seemed to put Vergil in a foul enough mood to make him storm out of the agency without another word or even look back at his brother. The latter, in turn, was shaking his head in disbelief in wake of his twin’s agitated departure.
Lady peered curiously over the second storey railing.
“What was that all about?” she asked conversationally, alerting Dante to her presence.
He must’ve been really immersed in whatever argument they were having because the small start he had when she started talking to him made her aware he hadn’t noticed her before she spoke up.
Curious.
“Nothing, really. Just my brother being a stubborn ass,” Dante said dismissively, returning his focus to the documents he was rifling for in the desk’s drawers. He paused testily only long enough to add: “Honestly, he is such a pain sometimes. Hard to believe we’re the same age with how he acts like a total child.”
Lady’s head tilted to the side but since Dante didn’t offer any further explanation and seemed to be in a hurry to dash out again, she didn’t have a chance to inquire any further into it.
She disregarded the topic altogether, choosing to return to her own task at hand. After all, in the past three months that Dante and Vergil had been back, she had been witness to multiple of their weird little arguments that were almost always completely incomprehensible to her.
She wasn’t about to lose any sleep over this one.
The next time Lady came back to the DMC main branch after a strenuous mission in a neighbouring town, she arrived to find Vergil standing in the most well-lit corner of the room, holding a familiar book up with one hand.
“Oh, hi,” she greeted good-naturedly upon spotting him in the corner.
His piercing silver-blue gaze lifted from the page he turned in order to give her one of his usual barely-there nods in greeting back.
She was staring at the book, the covers on both the front and back of which had a large, glaring “V” drawn on it. Something about that book reminded her of something she had seen before, but she was having trouble recalling what exactly.
Lady couldn’t help but notice that for the first time since she’d met him, Vergil looked more or less at ease while reading his book in the corner he seemed to have taken a liking to. She was still pondering why the book seemed familiar to her while evaluating that for once his shoulders weren’t squared and no tension was emanating from his form, propped up against the wall.
Even his expression looked borderline serene despite her presence as his eyes slowly scanned the lines of his read.
“Ah, yes, now I recall!” she announced triumphantly, causing Vergil’s reading to halt. He lifted his gaze up at her slowly, his brows knitting together. “Wasn’t that the book that V was carrying around all the time?”
Vergil’s brows narrowed further over his gaze which took on a slightly sharper edge. His eyes squinted a bit in a tic that was definitely the result of mounting irritation. But as his starting point this time was from calm to displeased, the build up was slower than usual.
“It’s mine,” he clarified tersely, offering no further explanation.
Lady gave a slow nod in response, understanding that the book was among the myriad topics that were off-limits for small talk between the two of them. In fact, she couldn’t at all recall any topic she had ever chosen to try to make small talk while waiting for Dante that hadn’t been off-limits.
In the time she had left all her equipment in the back of the room and gone to the bathroom to refresh herself, she returned to the common area where she found Vergil once again fully immersed in his book.
As far as she knew from what little interactions she had with V, it was supposed to be a collection of poems by some poet, or something to the same effect. It felt incredibly outlandish to see Vergil, of all people—the most brash, edgy and standoffish person she had had to deal with in her life—being absolutely engrossed by it with rapt attention.
Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to change the truth. He wasn’t even faking interest in the book - from what she could tell, the movements of his eyes over the pages were genuine, complete with page turning every other minute. In fact, he seemed to be savoring whatever he was reading, because he wasn’t in any rush to turn the pages when he did reach the bottom of one.
She scrutinized him out of the corner of her eye while rearranging her things because from what little interactions she already had with the man, she had already gathered that he wasn’t interested in conversation with her, or interaction of any kind with her. He was quite tight-lipped with everyone who wasn’t Dante—which seemed like the only time when he actually utilized his extensive vocabulary. He used the most unusual ways to say things—perhaps a bit poetic in a sense, she guessed?—and he rarely used simple words, even if there was a simpler way to say what he wanted.
More than that, though, what she couldn’t help but keenly notice was that for the first time in the past 3 months she had known him first-hand, his expression actually wasn’t set into a scowl or frown of any sort.
Whilst he was reading his book, his brows were relaxed for the first time ever, and his facial features were perfectly neutral. Upon noting this, she turned around and openly peered into his unguarded expression.
Transfixed with her train of thought, she approached him boldly, invading into his personal space which seemed to expand a little over a couple of meters or so. He stood more on edge upon her approach and as she stopped exactly a pace across from him, his eyes had narrowed and his shoulders squared. His right hand snapped the book shut with a swift motion, and he relaxed his arm to his side while still holding his prize tight.
“You know, I’ve been thinking this for a while and I thought you just had no other mode when there was someone else in the same room as you. But obviously that’s not the case.”
His knitted eyebrows quirked up a bit in his confusion, wary of what in the world she was talking about and why she had to invade his space to say her piece, whatever it was.
“I’m sure it’s none of my business, but now I just have to know. Why are your eyebrows always knitted?”
Lady’s question caught Vergil extremely off-guard. Out of the things he had assumed she might say, this was certainly not among them. To begin with, he didn’t really think what she was saying was correct - there was no way that his eyebrows were always drawn together and narrowed. She was talking nonsense.
“I mean, even if you don’t mean to, you can just tell by how they’re always gathered together in this spot right here.”
More than her unexpected line of questioning, the way that she just boldly reached out and put a finely manicured index finger to his forehead threw Vergil for a loop. Firstly, how dare this woman just waltz up to him as if she had any business being so close, and second of all, how could she dare to just touch him as she pleased, as if she had any right to do so?!
She was touching the spot on his forehead where the lines of his brows converged. A rather vulnerable spot which he was amazed he hadn’t stopped her hand before it had made contact with his skin.
Before he could dwell on her overly familiar way of manhandling him, Lady took her hand back and gave him a lopsided smile.
“I don’t know if it’s just when I’m around or something—I don’t know you well enough to be able to say—but you really should fix that bad habit. Of constantly scowling and whatnot. You were lucky enough to be born with a handsome face. You’re ruining it by having your eyebrows perpetually knitted together.”
There were few times in his life when Vergil had had nothing to say in a situation. The fact that he usually chose not to speak was not because he had nothing in mind to offer, but rather because he decided of his own volition to keep his thoughts to himself.
But now, he honestly had no idea how to retort to Lady’s little monologue. His lips parted slightly as he made to retort but he was drawing blank after blank as to what he could say.
Was he really scowling all the time? Were his brows really knitted, all the time ?
That didn’t sound right yet this woman was not just some random no-name female on the street. She was his brother’s trusted companion and someone who no doubt had used her sharp wit and keen observation to save her hide repeatedly. If she, who didn’t know him, had noticed this peculiarity about him, didn’t that mean that it was likely true?
Before he could dwell on this any further, Dante burst through the front door flamboyantly, bringing in some large heavy-looking crates.
“Alright, team, the latest shipment of merchandise from Nico has arrived. Whoever ordered something, step right up and help me carry it in,” he announced loudly before setting the first batch of crates in the middle of the room.
Lady’s eyes lit up in child-like glee.
“Oh, my custom order from Nico is already ready! That’s so awesome! I’ll go get it myself - don’t you dare touch it, Dante!”
With this, she dashed off after Dante to go collect her new weapon, leaving Vergil to his own devices.
In wake of her departure and the absence of her presence in his space, Vergil both relaxed and felt ill at ease for some inane reason he could neither name nor fathom. He did not take well to anybody just casually touching him, yet she had somehow gone right through his guard and laid her hands on him. On a rather vulnerable spot of his physique, no less.
He had no explanation as to how he had allowed that to happen. Nevertheless, although letting others touch him was a resounding No in his books, he hadn’t disliked the contact as much as he likely should have, if he was as averse to it as he believed.
While Lady and Dante were horsing around outside of the shop, Vergil completely tuned them out and focused on his reflection in the window’s glass. He was loath to admit it, but she seemed to be correct - right on the spot where she had touched him, his brows were knitted together, forming a rather deep crease in his brow.
He gingerly touched his forehead with the tips of his fingerless gloved hand, giving a drawn out thoughtful hum at his discovery.
Meanwhile, outside, Dante couldn’t help a quip that was just on the tip of his tongue.
“What were you up to in there, Lady, flirting with Vergil?” He asked jokingly, with a mischievous smile.
The addressed woman turned to him incredulously, a disbelieving look etched on her features.
“What are you talking about? Nobody’s flirting - I was just talking to him.”
She sure hoped that her tone did not come out sounding defensive. Because she wasn’t being defensive! And it’s not like she felt she needed to explain herself to Dante or anything - she just didn’t think it was cool to pull her leg about some misunderstanding he was imagining all on his own.
“Oh yeah? Sure sounded to me like you were laying it on thick about how handsome you found him.”
At this point, Lady didn’t even trust herself to look Dante in the eye because she had a feeling her face might betray her in some way or another. So she busied herself with unloading the crate with her new gun while responding instead.
“See, you totally got it wrong. I was just talking to him and asking him if he’s constantly frowning in general or if it’s just because of me being there. All I said was that he has a handsome face and he’s ruining it by having his brows constantly knitted all the time.”
“Aha! But you do think his face is handsome - that’s plenty flirty already, isn’t it? How’s that different from what I said?”
Lady wasn’t sure what this line of questioning was about but somehow she was starting to feel backed into a corner and her pulse started tripping over what she wanted to say but likely shouldn’t.
Before she could stop the words, they tumbled right out of her mouth.
“Well, of course he’s handsome. You guys have the same face, right? Twins and all,” she mumbled all but to herself.
Alas, Dante did hear her, as evidenced by his overexaggerated theatrical gasp.
“Oh, my, Lady! Are you trying to hit on me now? That’s awfully bold of you! I’ll have you know, a devil’s threeway isn’t really in the stars for you with Vergil and me, no matter how you flatter us!”
Lady’s face flushed bright red at Dante’s mischievous response, making her want to smack him upside the head with the rear end of her large new gun.
“Gah, I’m such a fool for answering your dumb questions seriouesly! J-just… forget it! No one was flirting - not now, not earlier! You dumbass!”
Dante grinned from ear to ear at her comical reaction and her brightly blushing face as she lumbered inside the agency with her weapon crate on her back.
It was always pretty fun yanking her chain but he honestly did not expect her reaction to be so cute.
He had to be a bit more careful, though. If he wasn’t, her flattery and clumsy flirting could actually get to his head and he might venture in a direction he shouldn’t with a person that he considered a colleague and a friend.