Chapter Text
Spotting her in the hallway crowd was easy. The blue beret did the trick.
“Hey, Lady!”
Thankfully, the sound of his voice worked wonders too. All the rookies, scurrying underfoot, suddenly vanished as if on command.
Dante chuckled. Despite the strict secrecy surrounding his status, people too easily guessed that the so-called agent Tony Redgrave was not as simple as he seemed. Fear and mistrust were his constant company.
Not like he cared.
He cared about one person though. The hell of a lady who kept bringing troubles into his life. A perfect sponsor when it comes to a good challenge.
Lady slowed her steps but didn't turn around. Her shoulders slumped slightly.
“Not in the mood, Dante.”
She huffed, more lifeless than usual.
With the grace of a tiger, Dante reached her side. Frankly, it would have been so easy for him to block her path, pin her against the wall, and simply satisfy his curiosity. Maybe at the cost of a bullet to his skull.
But something told him that such a strategy would only raise her walls higher.
“Are you avoiding me?”
Her lips formed a thin line, but still she didn't find a need to answer.
Following close on her heels, Dante didn’t even notice that their steps had led them to the Darkcom's dormitory. A familiar territory.
Being a gentleman, he already used a chance to escort Lady to her very door after they stayed up late yesterday. Much to her great displeasure.
Of course, he knew nothing would've happened to her. Darkom was his prison, but her second home. A silly flicker of hope just stirred in his chest: what if she wouldn't leave him at the threshold? Would she love to invite him in? Without any ulterior motives, of course!
It was just that… after his unplanned hiatus he was sick and tired of waking up alone in a cold sweat, gasping for air from another nightmare.
Dante gave his head a sharp shake, brushing away the idle sentimentality. They had nearly reached Lady’s room. If he hesitated any longer, the door would slam in his face once again.
Time to play the trump card.
“So Nell was right.”
Lady stiffened just a little, her hand freezing over the keypad.
“You're going to have fun tonight, leaving me behind?”
Her reaction was instantaneous. With lightning speed, the fingers keyed in the combination. The door slid aside with a metallic clang and Lady finally pivoted toward him. A dangerous glint in her eyes.
“I'm not going to have fun,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “And you!”
Her fingers jammed into his chest, accusingly:
“If you have nothing to do, go training! If you even plan to remove the side-effects of cryo!”
“Wow, hey!”
Catching the flow of her thoughts, Dante quickly slammed his hand, occupying the entire doorway.
This time, she won't shut him out.
“It wasn't my brilliant idea to hang out in the freezer to begin with!”
A shadow fell on Lady's face. The familiar guilty expression formed a crease between her eyebrows.
Oops, a landmine. Way to go.
Dante cursed under his breath. He hated it.
He missed their petty banter. Lady who knew no compromises.
But since he woke up she treated him like a porcelain vase. Well, maybe it was his fault. He kinda freaked her out in the lab. Clutching his head and throwing chairs around. As if he had a screw loose.
Sounds about right.
“Sorry,” her quiet voice snapped him back to reality. “But I mean it. We all need you in the best form.”
“And I'll reach it. Can't meet my long lost family looking as if I was slacking all these years,” the joke felt bitter on his tongue.
Dante cleared his throat before the unpleasant thoughts could catch him.
“It's not about me. It's about you.”
Lady tensed again, her eyes locked with his in a silent disbelief.
“Nell didn't give me much details,” for some reason Dante felt awkward under her intense gaze. “But I heard Arius is throwing a party to celebrate your promotion. And you…”
The glimpse of pain in her eyes clenched his throat.
“Don't look so happy about it.”
The heavy pause lingered.
Lady’s eyes darted for a second, focusing on something behind him, and then she slowly backed away, slipping deeper into the room. He followed her, quick to accept the silent invitation. After all, this conversation wasn't for prying ears.
The guarded den lived up to his expectations. Which actually was a bit sad. Deep down, Dante had still hoped to find something mindblowing - like pink wallpapers or a secret collection of plushies. A cute hobby for a tough girl. No white rabbits though.
Regardless, in reality, Lady’s room was close to Spartan conditions. Bare walls, not a single poster. Only a couple of bookshelves packed with dusty tomes. A laptop on the desk, and next to it, a framed portrait.
To his horror, Dante recognized the fancy red shades. The urge to flip the vice president off was irresistible, but the sweet, shy, and still quite youthful face of his favorite Darkcom's soldier stopped him.
As if reading his destructive thoughts, Lady marched toward the table, blocking the view. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the surface and fixed him with a glare.
“Of course I'm fucking not.”
“Huh?”
Dante almost forgot the goal of his visit.
Ah, right, the party.
“What's the matter?” he plopped onto the edge of her bed, feeling the stiffness of the mattress beneath him. "I bet that this time Baines’ bouquet will be even bigger than the one in the photo.”
Okay, that wasn't cool of him.
For a moment, it looked like Lady was going to throw him out of the room, but the flash of anger suddenly died, as she bit her lip.
“I'm more wary of Arius,” she muttered in a raspy voice, unconsciously hugging her shoulders.
This small vulnerable gesture twisted something inside him.
“Hey, if this pretentious weirdo is bothering you…”
Dante gritted his teeth, feeling his blood boil. He hadn’t liked Arius from their very first meeting. While Baines at least hid behind religious nonsense, this so-called philanthropist didn't even bother to pretend that he saw people as nothing but resources.
And that questionable obsession of his? Surrounding himself with female bodyguards who looked suspiciously identical.
Fortunately, Lady didn't seem to fit his type. But still…
“Don't tell me you want to beef with our direct boss?” Lady's small snort pulled him back to reality.
For the first time a tiny trace of a smile touched her lips.
“It's not like that, Dante,” she shook her head softly, before lowering her gaze again. “I just know what he's doing. The reason behind this whole feast during the plague.”
The grimness of her tone didn't leave much space for jokes.
“Hopper’s ratings are crashing. At this point, he’s bound to face impeachment,” her voice sounded almost mechanical. “Arius doesn’t want to escalate things too far just yet, so he offered compensation. Something to distract the public from the ugly truth. Just another shallow show.”
She swallowed, before finally raising her gaze.
“And I’m the goddamn star of this performance”.
Dante knew well what Lady's anger is like. Heck, he’d felt it on his own skin. But never before had he seen her in such a hopeless state. He missed her stubborn, challenging gaze. Especially now, when he was looking into her hollow eyes.
And she’d been carrying this cross all by herself while you were asleep.
Well, that was her choice, after all.
Dante sighed. Even if he wanted to, he just couldn't be mad at her. Any trace of grudge just paled in comparison to the mix of other complex emotions that he just couldn't find the words for.
“But what do they want from you?” he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “To smile at the cameras, saying everything’s just peachy? Sorry, Lady, but they’d better shell out for a more qualified actress than you.”
“I’d pay her extra myself,” with a huff she pushed away from the desk and flopped next to him. “But they need a hero of the day.”
A sweet, subtle scent hit his nostrils. His heightened sense of smell was ruthless.
Strawberry.
Without even knowing it, Lady was playing with fire, choosing a shampoo like that.
Blocking out the unnecessary thoughts, Dante cleared his throat cautiously:
“So, what? They’re just going to praise you for your epic stunts? Doesn't sound too bad.”
Even without seeing her face, he felt the roll of her eyes.
“Oh, sure! Because, apparently, I killed the wild terrorist from Hell! And took down his entire army! Honestly, it's a wonder I didn’t manage to off Mundus during the last mission as well!”
The light joke that rolled on the tip of his tongue died in his throat when he heard that last sentence.
“What?!”
Dante's hand grabbed her shoulder faster than his mind could catch up.
“Did they ship you to Mundus alone while I was asleep?!”
“You’re focusing on the wrong part!” Lady let out a muffled groan, hiding her face in her hands.
But… What if something had happened.
He gritted his teeth trying not to think too much.
Too late. Bright colors pulsed in his head, eagerly painting the worst-case scenarios.
What if he had woken up and Lady was already gone. What if Mundus had tortured and killed her just like…
“Dante?”
A light touch made him flinch. Lady’s hand gently brushed his cheek, just like back then, in the lab. Her skin was cold, but Dante couldn't have asked for better blessing as he felt the pulsing pain slowly leave his forehead.
Only now did he realize that he still held her shoulder captive. The heat rushed to his ears, as he hastily pulled his hand away.
Once again he faced no hint of reproach. Only a painfully familiar sense of guilt.
“Everything’s all right," she whispered, something between a question and an assertion. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned him so lightly.”
The best defense is offense.
“Aren’t you apologizing too much lately,” he scoffed. “Anyway this time I'm coming with you.”
“No, you don't.”
Suddenly, his gentle Lady vanished and Commander Arkham took her place. The stranger looked at him coldly.
“Don’t even think about it, Dante.”
“But why?” he smirked at her, trying to hide his irritation. “Don't wanna share the glory?”
“It's not a joke.”
And once again she treated him like a child.
“Fine!” Dante threw his hands up in exasperation. “You want me to be serious? Well, consider this! If anything happens, you'll be a prime target! And I've already figured out how much your bosses are up to throwing you under the bus!”
Now he was too close to her face, breathing heavily. Lady’s lips twitched, but she didn't give in to his intimidation.
“My personal problems are none of your fucking business, Hellblood,” she furrowed her brows. “I can handle it.”
“That's mine business too, Lady,” he rasped, almost threateningly.
The intimacy that had reigned between them shattered. Dante could feel her building the walls back up.
He couldn't sit still. Fighting the growing frustration, he began to pace the room rapidly, measuring it with his strides.
“You saw what my brother did. Seems he’s developed a passion for cameras. What if he decides to drop by your little gathering and mince the hero of the day on live TV?”
His subconscious generously supplied a vivid image. A calm, completely unfamiliar Vergil gazing indifferently at a mangled mountain of corpses.
“Damn it!”
The desk cried under his fist. The frame fell, finally ridding him of Baines’ smirking face.
“Dante!”
Lady was at his side in an instant, her hand gripping his elbow softly but firmly.
“Stop it. Look at me.”
He groaned, but something in her voice made him embarrassingly obedient.
“No matter what the threat is, you can't go to this party,” Lady slowly released his arm and, with a sigh, picked up the portrait, setting it back in its place. “You are our ace. Our secret weapon. We cannot deploy you ahead of time.”
And who exactly is this “we”?
But before he could object, her apathetic tone wavered, and she raised her eyes to him once more:
“I know how much you’re worrying about your brother. And I promise you, I’ll keep the situation under control. Believe me, I'm way better at dealing with demons than reporters.”
The faint shadow of a smile never reached her eyes.
“Oh, sure, I know,” he smirked back, mirroring her twisted expression. “Couldn't ever forget the headache you gave me.”
“All because you acted before using your brain,” Lady snorted in response, but quickly regained the serious composure. “Don’t repeat your mistakes, Dante. Don’t be reckless.”
Her fingers slowly traced his back, lingering for a moment, before gently pushing him to the door.
“Please.”
A low blow.
Dante wasn't strong enough to resist when she asked nicely.
Turning around was dangerous too, simply because he knew he couldn’t bluff to her face.
“Fine,” he finally grumbled, lingering on the threshold. “I’ll behave.”
“Good boy.”
She sing-songed, barely hiding her triumph.
What an adorable cockiness.
Dante didn’t like losing, but the way her shoulders finally relaxed made it kinda worth it.
Besides…
“Be careful out there, Lady,” his serious tone suddenly shifted and he winked. “Try not to scare people off with that foul mouth of yours.”
“Asshole!”
The door slammed shut with a clang. But he could swear he heard a chuckle behind it.
Perfect. Now for the easy part.
Dante smirked. Without her accusing eyes his conscience wasn't a threat.
Good boys go bad.