Disclaimer: I don’t own Witch Hunter Robin. I do own some characters that I seriously don’t feel like listing here, so go back to a past chapter where I felt like it.
Kitsune: P...p…Puff! *Kneels next to Amon*
Amon: *twitching*
Puff: What? *hanging out by the door furthest from Kitsune*
Kitsune: Help me. Amon’s color doesn’t look too good.
Puff: He’s under the black lights, Kitsune. And why are you so worried; he’s only a muse.
Kitsune: Amon is not just a muse! You said it yourself, Amon is a friend.
Puff: No, I mean if you help me carry him to the main muse-holding room we can put him in the muse-medic device I have. It will take care of the shock and patch up any major wounds. The small burns or scrapes from the fall, however, must be tended to by hand.
Kitsune and Puff: *struggle to carry Amon to main muse room*
Puff: *drops her end of Amon (the feet) on the floor and manipulates the controls on a wicked-looking device so the door opens* Okay, put him in while I set the machine.
Kitsune: *gently shoves Amon into the casket like box and shuts the door*
Puff: *twists a knob* We just wait now, only time will tell if my new invention works.
Kitsune: This is the first time you tested it?! *tries to open the door*
Puff: Yes and no. This is the first time I’ve tested it on a muse that’s been injured. I’ve tested on whole, healthy muses though. Now, calm down and lets go watch a little T.V. while we wait for Amon to finish cooking.
Kitsune: COOKING?!
Puff: Just kidding; he won’t bake in the hour I put him in for. It takes at least seven before the skin changes color. ^_^
Chapter Fourteen: And Today Started So Normally…
“Where to now?” Robin questioned softly, her tone apologetic for snapping at him a few minutes beforehand. Her nimble hands deftly strapped a fully asleep Javan into the car seat before she sat down in the passenger seat and buckled herself in.
“Might as well get her bedding and stuff today,” Amon stated, not sounding enthusiastic in the slightest element. He turned the key in the ignition and undid the hand brake, dark eyes showing a touch of amusement at the expense of the blonde craft user who had already began to pale at the thought of another roller coaster ride like the one they had getting to the furniture store.
Amon decided to be halfway nice and actually slowed down a little when going into a turn, successfully proving that he could drive like a normal human. Robin looked extremely grateful, though decided against voicing her approval of Amon’s new driving style; it was simply safer to stay quiet and pray that he didn’t revert to practicing for the Indy 500 around every corner.
The main roads were bustling with traffic, everyone wanting to grab a quick lunch and rush back to their offices. Robin kept checking on a peacefully sleeping Javan, amazed that anyone could sleep through the commotion of cars honking and people shouting for their group to slow down so they could catch up. Amon’s gloved hands clenched and unclenched the steering wheel continuously, the only visible action to show that he was annoyed.
“Do you have any idea of what kind of bedding you want to get?” Robin questioned sweetly, desperately trying to distract her obviously irritated partner from the heavy traffic. Amon slowly turned his head, his piercing gaze settling on the thin girl. Robin involuntarily shrank back from the morose man, inching slightly towards her window.
“Something black,” Amon stated unequivocally, his voice utterly point-blank.
“What about a theme of black, silver, white, and red?” Robin suggested, attempting to throw in color for Javan while pacifying her father’s need for every single thing in his house to be black or near black, “Maybe a few shiny pieces?” The cold hunter eyed her, frozen steel orbs locked on tranquil emerald.
“Perhaps,” Amon said simply after a moment of extremely well feigned deliberation. Robin smiled lightly, knowing it was Amon-talk for ‘I like your idea’. Silence filled the rest of the car ride; the only noise was that of the engine running and the sounds issued from the midday traffic.
“Amon, should I wake Javan up?” Robin inquired lightly, opening the door to the backseat. Her gloomy partner was leaning on the roof of the car, watching her with lazily icy eyes. When Amon didn’t respond to her question, Robin straightened her spine and stared directly into his stony eyes while she waited; she managed to maintain eye contact for about three minutes before she had to look away. Which, in reality, was a really long time for anyone to have a staring contest with Amon; most didn’t last thirty seconds.
“And why would we want to wake her?” Amon questioned indifferently, watching passing people in the parking lot, “She needs the sleep.” Robin smiled at him, her green eyes dancing merrily. For a split second the stoic hunter was afraid that the craft user was going to run around the car and hug him but she thankfully stood her ground.
“Yes, she needs the sleep,” Robin confirmed cheerfully, bending down and reaching into the car to undo the safety straps that held the raven-haired child securely in her seat.
“What are you doing?” Amon asked sharply, striding to the other side of the car so rapidly his coat caught a slight breeze and flared out briefly. Robin’s head shot up and slammed into the doorframe. Her fingers tenderly massaged her wounded skull while she gazed at Amon inquisitively, batting her dazed eyes to clear them.
“I’m getting Javan out of the car,” Robin said slowly, emphasizing each syllable to make her point readily apparent. Amon nearly rolled his eyes, only able to stop himself just as he began the movement.
“I know that, Robin,” Amon said pitilessly, not even bothering to ask if her head was alright and the contempt spelled out in his eyes clearly showed his displeasure for her weakness towards pain, “ I want to know why you are even attempting to move her.”
“So we can take her with us,” Robin explained delicately, dropping her hand from her amber locks after she discovered the skin wasn’t broken.
“By ‘let her sleep’, I meant leave her in the car,” Amon stated frostily, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. His glare, with the freeze factor comparable to the North Pole at Christmastime, simply dared Robin to contradict him in the slightest.
“You can’t leave a sleeping child in a parked car by themselves,” Robin retorted, choosing to ignore Amon’s glare. She then quickly undid the straps on Javan’s car seat and scooped the miraculously still unconscious little girl into her arms. Amon’s near black eyes narrowed threateningly before he spun around on his heels and walked off towards the store. The blonde craft user shifted Javan a touch so that when she ran to catch up with her partner, the child wouldn’t be woken from her slumber.
Robin’s black skirt swirled in the breeze, her crimson coat floating above the dark material like a butterfly’s wings. Amon didn’t acknowledge her presence when she caught up with him, refusing to even glance out of the corner of his eyes at his young partner. He didn’t appreciate her undermining his authority over his own child in such a blatant way; she should have at least explained why one couldn’t leave an obviously comfortable child where she was.
“What a cute couple,” a middle aged woman pointed out to her friends, politely gesturing towards the pair of hunters. The women all agreed, their heads bobbing up and down in synchrony. Both Robin and Amon faltered ever so slightly in their steps, casting curious looks at the group surreptitiously.
“And just look at that simply scrumptious little girl,” another said brightly, “She could win pageants any day.” The whole gang of women began to move towards Amon and Robin, who stealthily slipped inside the store and promptly disappeared into a side aisle. They exchanged glances quickly, ducking behind displays and making sure that the group wouldn’t be able to find them; Amon didn’t want to waste his precious time explaining that he and Robin weren’t married and then having to explain just about everything else. It was better to seem a touch odd.
“Excuse me, sir. Have you seen a couple dressed in all black with an adorable little girl?” the apparent leader asked an employee.
“Yeah, last time I saw some people fitting that description was a few minutes ago,” the employee stated, “They went that way.” The group scampered off in the direction that he pointed. Robin and Amon heard the group’s chatter increasing in loudness as they approached them. Futilely, they searched for any escape route; unluckily enough, they had somehow ended up at the left corner in the back of the store and were boxed in from all sides.
“You know, I hate to say this, but that little girl could beat the pants off all of my grandkids in cuteness contests,” several of the women chimed together, swarming around the highly disturbed hunters and the napping Javan. The women who spoke at the same time giggled at their matching thought patterns as they encircled Amon, Robin, and Javan completely.
“Can we help you?” Robin asked as nicely as was humanly possible, taking in account the current predicament she was stuck in. She was half-tempted to step back about six inches and step on Amon’s foot so he would, at the very least, pause in his blood curdling death glares, though she was also praying the women would get the idea from his icy eyes and leave them alone.
“We want to take that little girl with us,” one of them said, her voice utterly serious.
“What?!” Robin inquired incredulously, subconsciously drawing Javan’s small form closer to her own.
“We’d be willing to pay,” another voiced cheerfully from the back of the group. The craft user was horrified that a group of women wanted to buy Javan and she even more horrified at the look in Amon’s eyes; he seemed to be considering their offer.
“No, you can’t buy Javan. She a living, breathing human being,” Robin snapped, her free hand slipping into the pocket of her crimson overcoat to retrieve her glasses if need be. Amon immediately noticed the movement and stepped forward to dispel any thoughts of buying his daughter that still lingered in the women’s minds.
“You cannot purchase my daughter,” Amon said frostily, his own hand itching for his gun,” Now leave us alone.”
“We need that child,” all of them voiced in unison, sounding completely desperate.
“Why?” Robin questioned forcefully, turning her body slightly so as to shield Javan from their view and any force they would be willing to employ; with how frantic they sounded, it was anyone guess to what lengths they would go to get the child.
“We need that child,” they chimed again, their tone monotonous, “We need that child, or we’ll all die.”
“Maybe you could see a doctor or something,” Robin offered nervously, backing up as far as she could go.
“We need that child,” they all stated, their eyes slightly glazed and unfocused. Amon’s cell phone rang and he hurriedly snatched it out of his pocket.
“Amon, I was running a scan of your and Robin’s general area for security purposes and I have some really bad news,” Michael said unhappily, keys clicking furiously under his flying fingers.
“What?” Amon inquired piercingly, his patience stretched to its breaking point.
“My scanners say that you’re surrounded by what I would say is a group of blood related witches,” Michael stated, the worry in his voice easily read even over the communicator. Amon’s dark eyes flicked up from the blue-lit screen of his phone to the group of at least fifteen witches that had them completely surrounded.
Author’s Note:
That was a touch odd, but it will be worth it. I swear! In other news, I started my own book. {dances} I own the characters!!!
To the Reviewers:
Wake-Robin: I had fun with that, but so did Amon. ^_^
ShiroKitsune: When he’s an old man with grandchildren running around his feet. He’s kinda dense that way, at least in my mind. I was iffy about where it ended, but I have this thing where my chapters are set lengths so they don’t encounter issues when uploading.
Row: Puff has decided that it won’t be the last shopping expedition. And things can only get worse for Amon! Thank you for caring, my trip was great.
Suki1: You’re wait has ended! The great Puff has returned. Though, in retrospect, you don’t read the story for my impressively sarcastic comments every now and then or my wit. {Wails}
Goth Musician: I was being serious about the kindergartners. I have issues with stick figures, though I’m very close to mastering them.
Haruya: I think it was a little of both for our precious Amon. {Dodges flying candlestick, bookcase, desk, chair, and potted plant} Ha, Amon, you missed me; now ya got to kis… {Gets hit with glass penguin.} Ow. Oh, and you weren’t being me. I appreciate a little harsher feed back as it builds my understanding of what you all want. No flames though, I might decide to burn down the house.
Athana233: Thank you, so very much.
Slysilverinu: Whose computer is it? Wait, that’s none of my business.
Linkinthepast: I had to read over your review several times. The first time, I felt slightly insulted but I got the message on the third try. Thank you, I got you to like it even though you came to me with a closed mind. {Glomps} Sorry, can you breathe? One of the greatest? I think I’m going to cry.
Speaker for Psychopaths: Ah, a summer job. I’m never going to try one of those. I don’t associate well with others, so that might be an issue. You, on the other hand, seem really very nice. Good luck, my friend.