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Fire and Ice	By : Ginae_Evans Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 6391 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or any of its original characters or settings.

Chapter List
- 11
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- 13
Another two weeks went by with little mention of your unique "problem". Vergil had even reported that your "nightly conversations" had decreased significantly. This, more than anything, filled you with a tentative sense of relief.
Once, you'd asked when Orwryn was going to make another appearance. Vergil shrugged and had replied with a vague, "Whenever he decides to."
You considered this to be a very unsatisfactory answer, and it often sparked episodes of anxiety. The hyper little man had given you a serious case of the creeps and you would at least like to know when and where to expect him next.
Moreover, the blue twin continued with his mysterious "errands", and often refrained from giving you an explanation. Though, two or three times, it was for an actual job. In spite of everything you'd been privy to this last month or so, you'd almost forgotten that he was actually a demon slayer by trade, and not a babysitter. On these particular excursions, he'd routinely come back with vile-looking stains covering his clothes, and his hair would often be in disarray. After the first such incident, you'd been horrified and had asked if he was alright.
"Of course I am. This isn't my blood." He'd replied nonchalantly, shooting you a quizzical glance.
You still couldn't quite imagine a life that included returning home after a hard day's work with demon guts coating your uniform. And to be so casual about it. Just, yikes. You'd discovered a new-found respect for Vergil and Dante, and the service that they provided. Trish and Lady as well, actually.
Currently, you were sitting upside down on the couch, staring over at Joe Fishington. Since you'd had him, adding the surname seemed to suit him much better than just "Joe". You liked your little fish and Vergil did too. Oh, he wouldn't admit it of course, but you'd caught him observing Joe Fishington several times. On these occasions, he tried to cover himself by stating he was just checking to make sure you were, in fact, keeping it clean. And, true to your word, the water was still crystal clear and the tank remained sparkling.
Suddenly, a hand grasped one of your ankles and you were lifted up into the air. Startled out of your reverie, you dangle there helplessly as Vergil smirks down at you. Realizing it was only him and not some horrid thing sent from some dark, dripping abyss, your racing heart slows to normal and the panic retreats.
"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask, frowning. "Put me down, or vengeance will be mine."
"A terrifying prospect to be sure." He says, shaking you a bit. "Especially coming from an angry kitten."
"I'll make you pay," Both your voice and glare deepen menacingly.
He drops you back onto the couch with a lightly amused, "Hmph."
You bounce off the cushions and quickly right yourself, peering up at him from the back of the sofa. "You going anywhere today?"
"No. My bank account is comfortably flush again. I can take the day off." He slowly saunters over to the shelf and studies the aquarium, hands clasped behind his back.
"Oooh! You mean you're actually going to grace me with your presence for the whole day?" You ask, rolling off the couch and jumping to your feet.
"It seems that way. Lucky you." He swipes his hand back through his hair, half-hazardly straightening it, and not seeming to care when a few locks immediately fell back against his forehead.
You notice that he was also dressed much more casually than usual, suggesting that he was in one of his rarely-seen, laid back moods. This demeanor had come to be your favorite, as it usually meant that he would be more willing to engage in some mutual activity with you. You'd come to enjoy his quiet presence. He could be quite witty and engaging if was so inclined.
"What are your plans?" You ask, coming to stand beside him.
"I thought I'd finish reading my book."
"That's all you ever do, Vergil." You sigh, exasperated. "C'mon, watch some more Dexter with me."
"I can't tolerate anymore television at the moment." He tossed you a haughty, sidelong glance. "I'm actually rather surprised that you're as articulate as you are, given the amount that you watch."
"Har, har. Funny! Anyway, how about a game of chess then? I noticed that you had a chessboard in your room. I remember from that night when, well, yeah." You raise your eyebrows expectantly, then draw them together in another frown as he utters a distinctly patronizing chuckle. "What? " You ask, irritation lacing your tone.
"I only play chess with accomplished opponents," He said, lifting his nose a bit.
For a moment, you can only blink in astonishment. "Excuse me? I will have you know that I am excellent at chess. I'll beat your ass."
That got his attention. Vergil arches a brow and studies you for a moment. "Is that a challenge?" He asked.
"Yeah. It is. Let's you and me have a rumble. Right now." You nod hold your hand out and to the side, as if inviting him to go first.
No reply, but you notice his left eye twitch slightly. Finally, he nodded and pointed to a chair in the dining nook. "Sit there and wait while I set up. Then we'll see if you're all talk or not."

Several games later, you're gratified to see that his disdainful expression had diffused into a strange mixture of surprise and and annoyance. You can't help but smirk at him.
"Told ya," You said smugly.
"You haven't won yet." He responded, piercing you with his gaze.
"Neither have you."
True, you hadn't beaten him. But neither had he defeated you. Each game thus far had concluded in a draw. In fact, right about middlegame of the first match, Vergil's face had suddenly lost that mildly amused expression and was replaced by a sharp, watchful stare. You'd assumed that was the moment when he'd realized that you were hardly a pushover when it came to this particular game of war. Still though, it had given you quite a sense of satisfaction, and you'd offered him your Sweet Smile just to rub it in a bit.
"I apologize for ridiculing you earlier," He finally said, sitting back. "You're actually quite good."
"Yup." You agree. "And, apology accepted. Thank you."
"Who taught you to play?"
You shrug and point to yourself.
"Is that right?" He arches a brow.
"Yeah. I had a lot of free time when I was little, and I like puzzle games. Who taught you?"
He hesitated briefly. "Orwryn did."
"Oh?" You tilt your head, interest piqued. "When?"
Another pause. "When I was a boy."
You smile and stare off into the distance for a moment. "You know, I can't really imagine you as a kid."
"I assure you I was," Was the dry response.
You already knew bits and pieces of the twins' story, mostly from Lady and Trish, including the part where he and Dante had been separated for years after their mother's murder. Curious, you wonder if he was in the mood to reminisce. "How on earth did you end up meeting someone like Orwryn?"
"The decision wasn't mine." Vergil said, getting to his feet.
You experience a moment of disappointment when he began to clean up the chess pieces, thinking he was done being social. But, to your surprise, he kept talking.
"I ran across him after the incident, several days after Dante and I had been separated."
You remain quiet for a moment, knowing that the "incident" referred to his mother's death. Lady had warned you to never bring her up around Vergil or Dante. "How, though? I mean,I've never just 'run across' anyone like him."
"You were sheltered. Still are, actually. I was eight, on my own, and sans shelter. That old house seemed a palace to a frightened, homeless child." He finished gathering his game pieces and set them aside. "That's when I discovered that the house was really just a ruse. A clever disguise for what it actually was."
"Yeah, a forbidden library or something," you murmur, resting your chin on your hands.
He sat again, nodding. "Indeed. Can't have the average human just wandering into a library containing endless scrolls and tomes on ancient demonic lore. Uttering one of those spells out loud could have catastrophic consequences. Better to just remain as an abandoned, condemned house. For who would want to go in there voluntarily? Unless, of course, if you were cold and alone?" A chuckle, "Actually, now that there are more and more humans losing their homes nowadays, Orwryn has had to take more severe measures in order to assure his privacy."
You recall the horrible, bulging hallway and shudder. "Does it," you swallow. "Does it still bother you? That whole time period?"
He appeared thoughtful, "I'd say that now I mostly regret it. But, no, it doesn't actively 'bother' me any longer."
"How long does it take one to get over something like that?" This had you especially curious. Every time you thought of your own mother, your eyes would automatically tear up.
A vague shrug, "I believe healing time differs with each individual."
You wilt a bit. That wasn't exactly what you wanted to hear.
"Time does usually heals all wound, however. Some merely take longer than others." Vergil offers you a pointed glance.
"Oh."
"Don't look so dejected. You still have your life. You should be grateful enough for that."
"Yeah? Were you?" You snap.
Another noncommittal shrug.
There was a heavy silence. Vergil didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave, however, so you initiate more conversation. "So, uhm, what's it like? I mean, being half a demon."
This time a genuine smile stretched across his mouth, "It would only be better if I was full devil."
"Why?"
"I am faster, stronger, and deadlier than any human. I heal almost instantly from what would be mortal wounds to your kind, and sickness rarely affects me. My pain tolerance is insurmountable and I need much less food and sleep than humans do. My senses and reflexes are enhanced to incredible proportions and I've yet to be bested in any battle, and Dante doesn't count. Why wouldn't I prefer to be a demon?"
You shift in your seat and distractedly pick at your shorts. "Does it, I mean, is it hard to be both? Do you, like, think differently when you trigger?"
"Yes and no. I can't really give you an accurate answer since I've never known anything other than what I've always been. But, yes, when I trigger, my thought pattern changes. I can't exactly put it into words." He stops and appears thoughtful again. "It becomes almost accelerated, much like my movements. I can see what I need to do nearly instantly in any given situation. Though, I do sometimes have to remind myself that you aren't food." A wicked smirk.
You eye him nervously, "Great. Just what I needed to hear. I'm already having trouble sleeping at night, you know."
"Yes. I do. But don't fret, if I was going to eat you, I'd have done it already."
"Ooooookay, I'm just gonna go barricade myself in my room, now. If you'll excuse me." You begin to get up.
"Now, now. I'm only joshing. None of that." He gestures for you to sit. "And besides, if I wanted to get into your room, I could. Nothing you could do would be able to prevent me."
You comply and shoot him a distrustful stare. "Why do you always try to scare me like that?"
"Because your eyes grow much bigger than they usually are, and I find it rather appealing. Besides, perhaps I enjoy frightening humans. Ever think of that?"
Your cheeks heat up. Vergil had, in a roundabout way, complimented on one of your features. Lately, it seemed that he'd been dropping little innuendos, such as that one, more than he usually did. You wondered what it meant. Perhaps he had actually come to grown fond of having you around? The thought generated a small ball of warmth in your stomach.
"What are you smiling about?"
You blink, startled. "Nothing. Just pondering my next attack when we play chess again."
"You'll never beat me."
"I seem to be giving you a run for your money so far." You retort, crossing your arms.
He didn't answer for a moment. "How about a friendly wager, then?"
Uh-oh. This was dangerous territory. You could sense it. Time to proceed with the utmost caution. "What are the terms?" You ask.
His smile grew, "First one to lose a game must do the winner's bidding for one week."
Your eyes narrow, "What kind of 'bidding' did you have in mind, exactly?"
He gestured vaguely, "Whatever occurs to one of us, of course." Another decidedly evil smile. "In fact, how about we up the ante and say that nothing will be off limits?" At your silence, his smile grew into a grin. "What is this? Hesitation? Surely, you're not afraid, are you? Why, I thought you were entirely confident in your abilites." His tone had taken on a definite mocking quality.
Stung, your pride answered for you. "You've got yourself a bet, Devil-boy."
Vergil held out his hand, "We shake on it then. To seal the deal. First round will be held tonight at dusk, after you come in from watching the sunset. Just to give your little head a rest. There, now. You see how kind I can be?" His eyes flash wickedly as he said this. "In the event of another draw, we will reassemble at sundown tomorrow, same time. And so on until someone wins. Will those stakes work for you?"
"You're going down." You say, jutting your chin out and taking the offered hand.
"We'll see. I've quite the incentive to win now, you realize." He replied, giving your hand a firm shake. "And, perhaps I've been holding back."
You stare at him, expression uneasy. Then you shake your head and smile confidently. "You'd never do something like that. It's not in your nature. And don't forget that I have just as much of an 'incentive to win now' that you do."
"Well then, madam, until later." He stood and gave you a slight bow before taking his leave. A moment later, you hear the door to his room close.
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Fire and Ice