Companions (not sure yet)

Jayden woke alone. In her own bed. She dimly remembered falling asleep on the couch, draped across Dante's lap. Hmmemedemed he'd brought her to bed once more, but this time she'd remained asleep. Hn, good thing, she thought sleepily. Stretching, she realized she was even more tired than when she'd went to bed. She sighed; she hadn't meant to go off on a crying jag earlier. But he'd made her so damned mad with his machinations...ragh, her teeth gnashed once more, but she took a deep breath, trying to regain a semblance of calm. It did take several minutes, however.



Upon exiting her room and taking a quick survey of the compound, she realized with a bit of surprise she was alone. The devilter ter was nowhere around, according to her little sense. She trusted her radar; it hader ser steered her wrong nor failed her, but she did ask Lucille for conformation. Dante could just be outside checking generators or something along those lines; however she doubted it.



"Dante exited at precisely 13 hundred hours today, Jayden. He exited on his motorcyle, if that helps at all." Lucille had a human empathy chip in her mainframe, which allowed her to interact better wtih said sentinent beings. Thus she could think, to an extent, but only on a child's level.



Jayden blinked. "Oh, really...where was he going, pray tell?" She didn't imagine him going grocery-shoppig, the kitchen was stocked enough and the image of the demon hunter strolling the grocery isles was ludicrous. Overly so.



"I am sorry, Jayden, I do not know," Lucille intoned. Wonderful, Jayden thought sourly. Now she was alone in the miserable place again, and there was only so much training one could do in the space of a week. But a message from Lucille had her brows rising slightly. "Incoming call from Lucas, Jayden." Lucas then was heard through Lucille's speakers, sounding a bit harassed and annoyed more than anything.



"Jay, good, you're awake. Do me a favor? Go downtown and get Dante for me, please?"



Her blood ran cold at his words. "Go get him? What happened?" She jumped up from the couch and ran to the study, flicking on the monitor to see Lucas' face. "What happened!" she demanded.



Lucas grimaced as her voice rang through his headset. "Calm down, Jaydehit.hit. He's not hurt, far from it actually. He's just gone and gotten himself good and drunk down at the bar we frequent. Frog, the owner, just called me to come get him, but I'm in a rather sticky situation right now and can't make it. I need you to go haul him outta there, and you don't have to be gentle if you don't want to."



Go get him? She now wondered just how angry to get. But she took a deep breath, capping her temper, although with difficulty. Why couldn't the man get plastered here, where he didn't have far to crawl? But no, had to go public with it. She snorted. Idiot probably liked to get up and sing with the band. That thought brought a bit of a snerk to her lips and she shook her head in slight amusement. "Fine, then. Hells...better than lurking down here by my bloody self," she sighed, straightening from her crouch over the monitor. Lucas nodded and winked. "It's a bit of a tradition for us, one gets wasted, the other comes to get. Over and over."



After getting directions and warnings from Lucas, Jayden dressed quickly, jeans and sneakers but stuck one gun at her back, she headed for the garage and her car. She made good time to the city limits and slowed her speed considerably. Wouldn't do to get pulled over for speeding right now.



She found the specified place, right where Lucas had said. Her lip curled in derision. What a dump, she thought sourly, purring the car into a streetside parking spot, brow flicking. Degenerate and totally in disrepute. The windows were dirty and scoured, a waning neon sign advertising beer flickered sporadically above the door, which drifted on few hinges. Lovely, she thought, getting out and stuffing keys in her pockets, making sure of the weight of her pistol at her back.



Stepping inside quietly, she paused a moment to let her eyes adjust to the smoke and haze, taking a long look around. Typical bar, she decided with a soft snort. Counter at the other side of the room, tables and scattered chairs, a tired sounding band in another corner. A creaking ceiling fan circled overhead mixed the smoke and air haphazardly. She spied three patrons still littering the tables and chairs, but no sign of a white haired man hauling heavy weaponry.



Jayden picked her way through the place, taking care to avoid contact with any of the snoring miscreants. She made her way to the counter where a small pot-bellied man with heavy sideburns and a wizened gaze was absently wiping down glasses and steins. "We're fair to closing, lassie," he said gruffly, appraising her with a quick eye, then gave her a nod and a gap-toothed grin. Rather than take offense to the keep, Jayden merely shrugged and replied, "I'm here to pick up someone. Friend of mine, white hair, red leather, big guns?"



Another grin spread the man's lips. "Ah, you mean Dante, does ya lass?" His dark gaze grew even more bold as he leered at her slightly. "Been a while since a chit picked him up, usually Lucas hauls his ass outta my place."



"Really?" she asked dryly, flicking a brow. "Well, Lucas is temporarily unavailable, so he called me to drag Dante's carcass home, and I intend to do just that. Where is he?" She'd deduced that this must be Frog, the owner. He certaintly resembled one, being squat, short and dumpy. She wouldn't be surprised to see him flick his tongue and catch flies.



The little man guffawed slightly and jerked his head. "Over 'ere in th' corner, lassie. Good luck to ya, he gets frightful mean when he's been a-drinkin'." Jayden didn't doubt that, but she wasn't overly worried, and she tole lie little amphibian-looking man so. "He knows better than to take a swing at me, dear Frog, I'll bust his chops." At the man's speculative look, she grinned. "I've done it before, and I can do it again if need be."



Frog just grunted at the tall woman, he was just a bit too smart than remark to a redhead who just had to be packing some sort of firepower to be roaming this neighborhood this late at night. He went back to his cleaning as Jayden turned her attention away, spying a corner booth shadowed in darkness. Several dark whiskey bottles littered the table, but the occupant was slouched in the corner; all she could see was one black boot, heel hanging off the edge of the seat.



Jayden approached slowly, yeah, that was Dante; her little radar was chiming softly. But the sense was sluggish. She smirked; he was sloshed. Coming to a halt beside the table, she peered into the darkness and caught the gleam of platinum hair. "Dante?" she called softly, not wanting to come off too beligerent. That would be his attitude, she thought sourly. A rustle of leather greeted her ears and he leaned into the light. A brow flicked over jade eyes as she took him in, he splasplattered with dark something, probably blood. It streaked his hair, covered his clothes. The cerulean eyes, normally bright and alert, now held a smattering of something darker; pain, she realized. What in hell had happened?



"Dante?" she called again softly. When he looked up at her, she realized he was staring haphazardly because he was completely drunk and having trouble focusing on her. She leaned hands on the table, trying to make it easier for him to see her. "Dante, what happened?" she asked. He grinned at her, then wobbled a bit, groping for the half-full whiskey bottle amid the others that lred red the table. "Wen' ou' huntin' tonigh'..." he slurred, taking a long drag from the bottle. "Foun' a few t'kill..." He blinked then frowned at her. "Wh' ya doin' here?"



"Lucas wanme tme to come get you and take you home," she answered slowly. "Come on." Exten a h a hand, she grew tired of waiting for him to take it, and merely reached and grabbed his arm, trying to haul him to his feet. He followed her sluggishly, stumbling over the sheathed Alastor at his feet. She swore and grabbed the blade with her free hand, nearly toppling as he leaned his full weight on her. Jayden nearly gagged at the stench of alcohol and demon blood that permeated her nose. She hauled his arm over her shoulders, however and somehow managed to steer them to the door, taking care not to let him trip from stumbling over his own feet.



Reaching her car, she faced another dilemia. Dante didn't seem to want to sit in the seat, so she swore and let him drape lengthwise over the front seat. He was too long to fit so she was forced to pull his feet through the window to the knee. Rolling her eyes, she got in and started the car, nestling his head in her lap. Wonderful, she thought as the GTO purred to life.



Jayden manuevered the car out of town and back on the road that led to the compound, windows down to keep the interior from reeking too much of an overdose of whiskey. She looked down every now and then; Dante seemed to have drifted off to sleep. Good, she thought, let him snooze, although it was a bit disconcerting to have his face pressed to her stomach. The very thought made her shiver slightly and she growled under her breath, straightening her spine. Blasted hells, she grumbled. Stop that.



Driving in silence, she started a bit in surprise to hear him start peakpeak. "Jay'dn," he slurred, "wh' you doin here?" Not waiting for her to answer, he went on, gazing drunkenly up at her. "Do you 'member wh' happ'nd whe' I was five?" His brows furrowed. "I don' eith'r. Damnit." He threw a gloved hand which smacked the dashboard. "Why weren' ya there? I was there...I think...no, wait, no, I was there."



After hiccuping slightly, he went on with his monotone, which at first she dismissed as drunken ramble, but his words started to invade her consciousness and she listened closer, realizing what he was speaking of was actually truth. "'S what happ'ned to Mo'er 'n Verg...th' hordes came...our house was burnin'...demons were ev'where...I coul'n see nuffin', smoke-blind'd. Why don' you 'member?" He sounded truly puzzled, but went on. "I foun' Mo'er later, after th' fire burn'd out. Sh'was cut-up...dead...n' more blue eyes...gone." He hiccuped again. "An' Verg...he wasn' no'where 'round. Feds came, took me t'or-orph...orph'nage. Was strange kid. No'one wan'd me...split when I was si'teen. Lived on th'streets until I made 'nuff money to start bus'ness to hunt...yeah." He fell quiet for a moment, then squinted up at her. "Do y' 'member, Jay'dn? Rough."



She listened in stunned shock at his reminiscence; she'd had no idea he'd been through so much at such a young age. And to live on the streets...she'd been lucky to have her master and Jacksom looking out for her. Against her better judgement, she lowered a hand to softly brush matted strands from his forehead, saying softly, "I wasn't there, Dante, but I'm here now, and I'll take care of you, don't worry." She felt tears threatening her eyes as she imagined him as a child, lost and alone, having to live through his mother's death at the claws of a demon horde. Lucas had told her of his heritage; she wasn't stupid. She knew whose blood he carried and she was certain the demons would want all of Sparda's lineage wiped out, thus the attempted slaughter of his progeny.



But it disturbed her more than she was willing to admit when he turned his head to nuzzle into her palm, breathing softly against her skin. Hmm, she thought, feeling skitters flitter across her flesh, this is getting rather out of hand, him seeming more human then devil. Not good, Jayden. Definately not good. But she couldn't deny her heart ached for him, as well as her own pain; seems they attracted it. In droves. With a resigned sigh, Jayden just left her palm against his cheek, cradling his face softly as she drove.



Back in the compound, it took her a minor miracle to get them both downstairs without loss of life and/or limb. Jayden swore repetitive curses and foul epithets as moremore or less carried the semi-comatose devil hunter down the hall to his bedroom, dragging the sheathed Alastor behind her. Dumping him on the bed, she threw sweaty hair over her shoulder and glared; the miscreant wasn't a lightweight, that was for sure. Christ. She returned the blade to its wall mount and proceeded to haul Dante further into bed, cursing him all the while.



"Just had to go and get plastered, didn't you?" she muttered, trying to get his boots off. She jerked hard enough to send her flying back on her butt as it camf hif his foot abruptly. Temper flaring, she refrained from throwing at his head, and merely undertook the same task on the other. "Couldn't stay home and do it, hell no," she flared, lifting his arms to get the trench off his inert body. It was flung across the room with the boots. "Typical male idiotic moron," she fumed, prodding at him to crawl a bit higher on the bed, long fingers seeking and finding the buckles to divest him of his guns, vest and shirt. But she stopped there, having yanked open the vest and froze, warm male skin beneath her hands for the first time in gods knew how long.



It took her a bit to recall just where she was; sitting on top of a very attractive, very drunk man, methodically stripping him in his own bedroom. She looked up at the wall, wondering just how she'd gotten herself into tpredpredicament and failing miserably. Looking down, her eyes encountered her own hands resting just so comfortably on a very nice chest, all smooth skin and hard muscle, with a few faint lines she guessed were leftovers from vicious battles. What would it hurt to just...slip her hands over all that exposed skin? Come on, just a little bit...? She jerked as if she'd been smacked. Stop it, Jayden McAlister! She blinked, realizing Dante'd shifted a bit beneath her, muttering in his sleep. He groaned and turned his head, exposing the smooth curve of throat, nestling his head more comfortably on hilloillow.



Oh my God, she thought wildly, this was so not good! Move, for Christ's sake, Jayden, hell! But when she tried to, she found she really didn't want to. Not really. She sat there on Dante's stomach, the gears in her brain turning over and over, trying to smoke some sense from her flustered mind. None came, could it be she'd gone crazy? Possibly. She couldn't have been in her right mind to let Lucas talk her into staying here in the first place.



Gnashing her teeth behind her lips, she snorted, shaking her head and swearing aggravatedly at herself. It galled her to realize how much damnable effort it took her mind to drill into her limbs to make her move. She swore even more foul curses as she stumbled off the bed, for her knees just refused to support her at that precise moment. Biting her lips until they bled, she pondered the delicious notion of dumping about a bucketful of ice water on his filthy ass, and all body parts in between. But she refrained, knowing it would only cause no end of trouble.



She went to collect the foul clothing, planning to take it down to the utility for Lucille to wash when a slow moan halted her in her tracks, arms filled with red leather and black silk. She was afraid to turn around, but like a child drawn to a horror scene, couldn't help herself. What she encountered made her blush in hot color; good Christ, there should be some sort of warning label on that kind of...male... Dante had apparently gotten annoyed with the leather that remained on his skin, chafing against the silk of his sheets and somehow, how she would never know, managed to divest his long legs of the damnable pants and kick them to the floor. Jayden just stared in amazement as he stretched slowly, arching everything from shoulders to toes, then yawned sleepily and rolled over, facing her, propping an arm beneath his head.



Praise Christ his eyes had never opened or she was sure he'd never let her forget the way her own eyes roamed his body eagerly, quite against her own volition, taking in ever nuance, slow curve, hardened plane and slight scar from head to feet. She realized the flush on her cheeks and the slow heating that was still thrumming through her veins was desire, seemingly a long forgotten emotion to her senses. Her fingers twitched and she was suddenly extremely sorry she'd moved. Biting her lip, she forced her feet to move, carrying her backwards out the door and closed it with a breathless sigh, mentally calling to mind the delicious vision that still scored her retinas. Shit, time for a cold shower, and she'd not needed one of those in ages... Damn, this was going to be awkward…