Writer Note: This is our 'little break side project', in collaboration with Gregster_Lord_erotico. This is highly non-canon, not even in tandem to our headcanon of our DmC fanfic project. Also, Dante of DmC here is, I consider, OOC since this is set in a far-flung future when he's finally in a good place and coping well with his past trauma. He's just moved on, is how he's depicted here. Lastly, can I just say how the women in Devil May Cry are always so good, like they should have an entire game spin-off all for themselves!

One little rant: I feel that Devil May Cry and DmC should be separated, like how Final Fantasy installments are treated here. Like there's literally FF I-VI, then VII, VIII, etc. and even a few of their spin-off/side titles in ! DMC and DmC are separated in Archive of our Own, making it clearly that they are distinct titles. I wish this could happen soon, but I don't know if reporting this suggestion would even work :'( ...

Chapter One: Acquaintanceship

The afternoon scenery is breathtaking; the long road is framed by tall trees finally growing back leaves for spring. The lush greenery across the lowland valleys are abloom with flowers and the sound of birds and bugs chirping and zipping along. It had been a good idea to use a cruiser bike, since it has great storage space for an overnight backpacker and was still a long ride from the urbanscape of Capulet City to his destination.

He had stopped the bike on the side, deciding that, while there is still very little traffic, he can snap a photo for Kat to see this place. And as evidence that he did do this after all. Not that there was any doubt, but Kat had insisted they would've gone together. But she was busy with the new arrangements in the antique store and the new tutoring agency they're under, so it was up to him. This was no ordinary sightseeing, after all. He could say he's 'scouting' for possible future gigs outside the city and boost their reputation through word-of-mouth among suburban locals…

Ah, maybe. First things first…

Getting onto the bike once again, he passes by a small idyllic neighborhood, as picturesque as those Kinkade paintings before finally seeing the sign that points out he's only a few meters from the destination's own entry path that forks from the main road. A modest parking area is stationed between the woodlands and a set of other tourist attraction buildings. The place he needs to get to restricts vehicular traffic and employs golf carts and minibuses for disabled and other people who have gotten weary from activities. Parking his bike for an overnight fee, he heads to one of the offices to pay for his reservation.

"Welcome to GlampHeight," the employee greets and he asks about his reserved accommodation, which the employee manages to bring up and reveals the overnight staying fee. "215 bucks, sir."

"Alright…"

The employee further elaborates, "The cabin is a spacious multi-bedroom cabin. There's someone already waiting by the same lodging."

"Thanks." He needn't have to be told; there were scant details regarding his 'client'...well, he can't really call this woman a client at all. This whole thing was a kind favor being done.

Handing him the key to the lodging, he tells him that a pile of firewood has been placed on the side of the cabin he's staying and that an assistant is available around the clock, should he need help. "Your checkout is the same time today, 3 pm tomorrow. Please do not lose the key. Please enjoy your stay."
Walking was encouraged to get there, but he didn't mind. He was able to get a flyer of the lodging and, while he walked with his belongings slung on his back, read the information the rest of the way. Their activities are certainly interesting, ranging from outdoor ones to things that should be considered city folks like him can do at home anyway, but they do have, like baking…

He reserved a sharing cabin for six people, but from what had been arranged, there's going to be just two people waiting for him there. He does find that the cabin—quaint, all wood and provided outdoor furniture—is already occupied by a singular person, a woman. Looks like the investigation will go smoothly.

His presence is no surprise and the woman, whose back was facing him, turned to meet him, her bespectacled, curly-haired figure a sight he is truly enjoying. She didn't let his small grin fly by, her eyes traveling across his expanse and...slyly represses a chuckle.

"Howdy," she greets, extending her hand. "Call me Nico. I'm sure our mutual friends 'ave told us who we are."

"Right." He says as he takes her hand. "To business, then."

"Yep." She agrees, turning to lead the way. "It's actually just gonna be the two o' us. My...associate decided to flake last minute when he thought this whole thang is too small fry for him."

Opening the cabin's front door, the cabin's modesty and woodsy aesthetic reveals the fact that it's basically a modern house with modern amenities, with some provided outdoor paraphernalia, such as those furniture and a wheeled grilling station. It's ironic, for him, to the reason for camping, but it's not something he should ponder about. After all, people in the woods created a village by making shelter and objects to use.

"That's too bad," he tells her. "I think it would've helped with his input." From what he knew, Nico's associate—a demon hunter (he rolled his eyes)—has been a former member of a devout and holy cult, native on an island somewhere in the east coast...or was it west? No matter; his expertise would've been helpful.

"Nah! We don't need 'im!" Nico exclaims as she makes her way around the lodging's interior and to the hall featuring four rooms, inspecting each and every nook and cranny. "I have ev'rything wi' me! All the notes and stuff, plus I was told you can do magic!"

He chuckles. "Haha, sorry, that's my associate's expertise. But she left me something to help with that."

"Hmp!" She turns to him with a beaming face. "So we both don't got nobody who does the actual thang, but we here anyway!"

"On her defense," he adds. "She's gotten busy with her business and being my manager, so there's that."

"Alright, then." She tells him, finalizing that topic.

He decides to take a good look around their area, since she's busy doing that while she unpacked her belongings. There are two bedrooms and two bathrooms, which he surmised can help separate men and women. The bedrooms provided three beds, although the other bedroom provided a bunk bed instead of standard ones, in case, perhaps there are kids...or men who are competing for the top spot.

It doesn't surprise him when Nico does take the top bunk. Turning around to him, she extends her arm and points to the other bedroom. "We ain't sharing the space, soft boy."

Without a word, he leaves her be and, trotting to the living area, picked the foldable sofa instead as his bed and laid out his backpack on it before dropping unto its cushiony surface. He does find this slow-paced affair quite relaxing; he rolls his eyes to that. Only a matter of time something escalates. Whipping out his smartphone, he takes a snap of the living area and sends them to Kat.

"I don't get 'glamping'."

"Glamping is a portmanteau of the words glamorous and camping. The term itself is new, but the idea is not. Nobility from ancient times, military and political campaigns have been known to have luxurious and lavish tent-living lifestyles and even great maintenance of their expensive marquees."

"...now I get it (inserting diamond and money bag emoticons)"

"Anyway, did you just arrive?"

"Yep. Ms. Goldstein's on her own, tho."

"Is that bad? I think you two can handle this mess."

"You could've gone with. You need a vacation."

"Don't remind me."

"Ok. Off to start the investigation."

"Remain professional! No touchy-touchy!"

"You're the one bringing it up tho…"

"I'm counting on you."

"It'll be smooth sailing."

"Okay. Let me know what you find."

Putting back his phone, he hears Nico approaching the living area, her hands on her hips and looking excited. "You ready, soft boy?"

"Only if you've already anti-mosquito sprayed your cute midriff." He tells her as he stands up from the foldable sofa. He didn't dare miss the dry scowl across her face as she goes back inside her bedroom. So, what if he put her off? If she was going to insist on not calling him by his name, then so be it. He can keep it up.