Slow Burn

Chapter 2- Suffering

Amon watched his partner as she sat at her desk and switched on her
terminal, just a few desks away from him.  She was so close-
yet too far away.  God, she was so beautiful he ached just looking
at her.  Still he blissfully tortured himself by observing her
every graceful movement, studying her serene face and enchanting smile,
all without her knowledge of course.  She was just as beautiful a
person on the inside as the outside.  He'd never met anyone with
so much compassion for mankind, so much faith in the goodness of all
people- even him.  Even after she learned Zaizen had assigned him
to kill her, Robin still had faith in him.  Amon didn't feel he
deserved it but she made him want to protect and care for her that much
more, to be a better man, to make himself worthy of her trust.

He'd promised her at
the Factory that he would kill her if her powers ever became
uncontrollable, but even as he made that awful vow he doubted his own
ability to
carry it out.  Amon knew he
couldn't do it now, all this time
working with Robin and getting to know her had only
strengthened his bond to her.  He would willingly trade his
own life for hers, without a second thought.  Now he knew Robin
would never be corrupted by her own power, she was still the
same noble person she had always been. 
Father Juliano had said it
himself- it was his own sin that drove him to order Robin's hunt, not
hers.

I believe in your heart, Amon,
she'd told him that night so long ago at Nagira's loft.  She stood
there with no fear and absolute trust, as Amon
held his gun pointed at her, ready to shoot.  She could have
burned him alive to defend herself, but she didn't.  Instead she
had placed her life squarely in his hands, and quietly melted his
frozen heart
in the process.  He had not
said it
at the time, but he silently echoed the same sentiment to her style="font-style: italic;">...and I believe in yours, Robin.

Amon thought that must have been the moment he'd fallen completely in
love with his precious little bird.

It took a long time for him to understand that's what it was.  He
started to have strong feelings for his underage partner, and he'd
hated himself
for it and tried to deny it.  He figured he would get over
it.  After all, it was wrong on so many levels- she had been only
15 when they first met, and he was almost a decade older.  The
first time
he'd
felt desire for her it made him feel filthy and horribly guilty. 
What was wrong with him? - to be sexually aroused by a style="font-style: italic;">child!!  Of course, even then
she'd been very mature and wise far beyond her years.  With her
strict upbringing, Robin had probably never had much of a childhood to
begin with.  But to him, that was no excuse and did not justify
his fierce attraction to her.  Her crush on
him in
the beginning of their partnership only made it worse- she was young
after all, infatuation was normal for a girl her age.  She would
outgrow those
feelings.  Sure enough
she had.

But he was an adult, he was supposed to know better, to show some
decency and restraint, to find someone his own age instead of lusting
after a lovely ingenue, no matter how irresistible she
was.  Robin was the kindest, purest person he had ever known; even
if she was finally legal now, he still
did
not deserve someone like her.  He
had
no such
excuse.

Now that she was 19, Amon came to accept that he
loved his partner, this powerful, dazzling, wonderful little witch who
cast her
spell on him from the moment he'd first locked eyes with her. 
Only
now he had a different problem- how could he possibly style="font-style: italic;">tell her that?

He recalled that fateful day in
Harry's, when he'd looked up to find himself suddenly hypnotized by the
most amazing pair of green eyes he'd ever seen; sagely observing him
from an angelic face framed by those same flaming wisps of soft,
red-blonde hair that always managed to float free of that strange
hairstyle he would later recognize as her trademark.  Her small,
slender frame, weighted down by a long, heavily-layered black pilgrim's
dress that looked like something from a Victorian Age museum exhibit,
along with her
open, youthful visage clearly showed her as a young girl, no older than
fifteen or sixteen; yet those eyes radiated the wisdom of someone at
least twice her age.  The ethereal woman-child drifted slowly past
him in the hallway in silence, her eyes never leaving his, until she
gradually vanished around a corner.  As she passed Amon caught a
hint of her delicious scent; sweet and light but not cloying- perhaps
vanilla or honey or almond?  It was all Amon could do not to run
back to see if the mysterious girl was still there, if she actually
existed, or if she had been an unusually fanciful hallucination on his
part.  But of course, Amon being Amon, even in his sleep-deprived
state
that day he still fought off the impulse to verify what he thought he'd
seen but couldn't possibly be real.

He wrote the "vision" off as a product of exhaustion; he had put in a
lot of
overtime on the STN-J's latest case and was running on too little sleep
and too
much caffeine by that time.  It turned out he didn't have to have
his
eyes checked after all.  When that same girl had shown up in the
warehouse later to help them in their hunt, he realized style="font-style: italic;">she was the replacement SOLOMON
had sent.  Amon thought he must have loved her even then; even as
he spit out the first of many critical, condescending comments he would
make to her, all of which he regretted.  Sure, her craft was
fairly raw back then, but she had saved all their hides, including his
own
stupid ass, that night.  He still kicked himself, years later,
remembering what he'd said to her.  No "thank you", no "welcome to
the team", not even a "what's your name, sweet thing?"

Oh no, not him.  Bad-ass, ice-cold Amon the super witch hunter
never
said things even remotely friendly.  Even one of his brother's
god-awful pickup lines might have
been better than what he'd actually said. 

"Could you... try... to use
your powers more
efficiently?"  He could still hear the snide tone of his own voice
as he
said it.  "It's a pain in the neck putting out fires."

Amon
also remembered the hurt look in those expressive eyes of hers that
had unexpectedly stabbed him like a hot arrow; and the wounded gasp
that
was so soft he almost didn't hear it- the one that twisted that
imaginary arrow deeper into him.

Yes, he had loved her even then.  He could safely admit that to
himself, now.  But in those days he was always afraid; afraid of
losing control, of his own emotions, of rejection- of so many idiotic
things
that seemed trivial and unfounded after the passage of years. 
Goaded by
his inner demons he had pushed her away, time and again, intending to
make her hate and fear him, and never letting her get too close; close
enough to injure the heart that was still alive inside him despite his
best efforts to shut it off.  Robin surprised
him; by sticking with him no matter how cruel he was to
her.  And in spite of himself, he style="font-style: italic;">had let her get under his skin,
after all.

When Zaizen ordered him to kill Robin, Amon knew he couldn't do
it. 
He stalled Zaizen for as long as he could, running himself ragged
trying to find a solution, a way to save her life- but by his
hesitation he had nearly lost the angel he had been trying to
protect.  Finally Zaizen
grew tired of waiting for results from Amon, and manipulated Juliano
into
ordering an official Hunt on his own granddaughter.  By the time
Amon found out what was about to happen, he was almost too late. 
He had no way of knowing at the time that the agents who broke into
Raven's Flat were not there to kill Robin, and he had sneaked her out
of the building through the secret passage beneath the well.  When
he slid that note into her hair their faces were so close; he'd had a
crazy impulse to kiss her right then.  Now he wished he had, if
only to find out if those pouting lips were as sweet and soft as they
looked.

It was so painfully obvious to him now.  What an idiot he was not
to see it, the truth of his feelings for her.  He'd loved Robin
from the very beginning.  He'd dumped Touko for her- not that
there
was much of a relationship there anyway.  But when Robin came into
his life, any weak ties that remained between him and his previous
girlfriend were
finally severed.  But he had waited too long, treated her too
badly- she had outgrown her fascination with him.  Maybe it was
better that way- everyone he'd ever cared deeply about in his life
ended up dead. 
Better to have Robin hate him than be hurt, or worse, because of him.

Whatever feelings Robin might have had for him in the beginning were
nothing but an adolescent's unsettled hormones, she no longer had those
feelings for him.  He recognized the bitter humor in it, the cruel
irony of how
effectively the tables had been turned- now style="font-style: italic;">he was the one hopelessly in love
with her.  Robin was the
most
important person in his life, they worked together
well as partners, she alone knew his deepest secrets, she understood
him better than anyone.  Amon didn't feel comfortable sharing
personal things with people, he kept himself closed off from everyone-
except Robin.  She was his other half, the
sunlight to his darkness.  He
needed her, her fire was the only thing that could warm
the chill that still clung to his soul.  They
were real friends now, he sure
as hell wasn't going to risk that relationship by springing
this on her.  How do you tell a friend that you're madly in style="font-style: italic;">love with them?

Amon had never been good at expressing his feelings.  Throughout
his life he had found it much easier to simply strangle them. 
Emotions had brough him nothing but misery during his childhood, and
betrayal from
those he had loved and thought he could trust.  style="font-style: italic;">She was the only one he trusted
now.  He knew Robin would never betray him.  He had already
told her the painful events of his past, on some level he was aware
that
Robin was the only one who made him feel secure enough to reveal those
things he'd kept bottled up inside for so long.

To complicate things further, he still carried a truckload of guilt
over that whole age
difference thing.  After eating at him for such an extended time,
the guilt
didn't just magically disappear when she turned 16, even though that
was the legal age
of
consent in Japan.  He still couldn't get past the belief that he
was
taking advantage of her somehow just by having these desires. It made
him feel like a pervert, a dirty old man lusting after a
pretty young
girl.

So, all things considered, Amon thought it best to keep this one secret
to
himself.  To his dismay, it was growing progressively harder for
him to do that.

It didn't help that she had gotten so damn gorgeous in the past few
years.  She had always been so, but now she was a woman rather
than a
girl.  Her incomparable face was as pretty as ever, her lips full
and
pink, that rich cinnamon-gold silk of her hair, and those eyes- oh yes,
he could happily lose himself in those glowing emerald pools, and never
find his way out.  She still wore her hair up most of the time,
although thankfully not in those odd, handlebar-looking pigtails she
had
when she started at the STN-J.  They had always seemed a bit too
childlike for her, even though he'd always secretly considered her
adorable even back then.  And that made him feel guilty too, that
he
could still be so enchanted by
Robin even when she looked like a little
girl. He felt slightly relieved without having to see and dream of
her that way anymore.

Now Robin didn't bother with such an
elaborate style, she normally just tied
it back in a long, low ponytail or with a clip.  Today she was
actually wearing it down, a rare treat.  The sickly flourescent
light in the
office still somehow managed to pick up the fiery highlights in the
burnished gold strands as they spilled over her shoulders and down her
upper back like an opulent tapestry.  He was positive that any
minute
now, she'd lose
patience with it dangling in her face.  By noon that
lush mane would be imprisoned in a ponytail again.

Robin hated her hair "getting in the way" as she called it.  Amon
was of a completely different opinion; he had to forcibly restrain
himself from reaching out and slipping his fingers through her silky
locks, or tucking those stray tendrils behind her tiny ears.  He
smiled inwardly.  Just like Robin, even in her hardheaded
practicality she still looked stunning.  She was the
only
woman he'd ever met who didn't care too much about her appearance,
other
than being clean and neat, and still look so sinfully attractive. 
Modest, serious, unassuming Robin had no idea how beautiful
she really was, she never noticed the way men of all ages and
backgrounds hungrily stared at her everywhere she went.

He did though- and the territorial, protective feeling that rushed
through him made him want to punch out every single male who
ogled her like she was nothing but fresh meat.  No matter
how well he managed to hide it from her and everyone else, deep down
Amon considered Robin his
woman.

Robin dressed differently now too, although still
conservative and mostly black, her wardrobe was more varied.  Gone
were those long, black pilgrim's dresses she used to wear every day.
She liked simple, classic outfits, and she had a natural elegance about
her that made her look great in everything.  Robin's tastes ran to
mostly
black with
some dark
colors, she often wore tailored slacks or long skirts that rarely got
higher
than her knees.  The tops were all very modest too, sometimes
snug-fitting but always covering everything- no plunging v-necks or
skimpy tank tops
for Robin like Doujima tried to put her in when she dragged the girl
away
on
one of her mid-workday shopping sprees.  Not that Amon would style="font-style: italic;">mind seeing Robin in a
skimpy tank top, or a lot less for that matter.  Even in her
demure
attire, Robin's slim figure had visibly acquired a woman's full curves,
Amon
found
himself eyeing them more and more, and dreaming of
touching
and kissing her... everywhere.

Dammit!  he cursed
himself as he started to feel an all-too-familiar throbbing heat in his
groin.  I'm gonna have
to lock
myself in the bathroom for a few minutes if I don't get my mind off
Robin! 
he thought disgustedly.  How
pathetic.  I'm reduced to jerking off like some
stupid adolescent boy- what happened to all my self-control? 
It was a disgraceful method he had been forced to employ increasingly
often as of
late.  He had not been in a serious relationship since Touko (if
whatever it was they'd had could even be termed a "relationship") and
for almost two years after that his sex life consisted of a series of
one-night
stands with women whose faces he never remembered or saw again, who
were nothing but cheap substitutes for what he really wanted. style="font-style: italic;">

Fortunately for Amon he always used a condom whenever he slept with
women, he knew it was the safe thing to do in this day and age, too
many diseases and paternity suits floating around out there for his
liking.  He certainly didn't want to come down with anything worse
than a hangover the next morning.  As for children, Amon believed
that any child he might
potentially have deserved better than that- a real family, with both
parents that truly loved each other.  That was what he always
wanted as a boy but never had.  His mother had done the best she
could on her own, until her mind was shattered by the power within her,
the same power that lay dormant in his own blood.  It was that
power, that hated power that had stolen her from him when he was only
seven years old.  After his mother's Awakening and hunt he grew up
much faster than his
years in the cold arms of the STN.

That deceptively thin layer of latex also served the additional purpose
of keeping the distance between himself and his partner.  Skin to
skin contact was too intimate, too intense to be shared with just
anyone.  Even while he was with Touko Amon had held up that
barrier
between them.  She never said a word about it; and he used her
because she let him get away with it.  Amon was not proud of the
way he had treated Touko; he suspected she might have been in love with
him once, but to him she was just a mild sort of friend- whom he
happened to fuck every now and then.  Amon had cared about Touko
about as much as he was capable of- until Robin came along, and showed
just how much more he had in
him to give.  That had shaken him to the core.  And he had
not given it to Touko.  By then he could no longer ignore the
protests of his conscience and had finally set Touko free.

The last he'd heard, Touko was happily married now and had a baby
daughter, her husband was a completely ordinary software programmer in
Tokyo who had nothing to do with witches or the STN and never
would.  Amon was happy for her, being able to have a normal,
tranquil life far away from the dangerous underworld of witches and
hunters that had been her father's obsession; and ended in his
death.  Amon himself, of course, had yet to find any such peace
and he doubted he ever would.  Being a Seed, likely to become a
full witch someday, he would never be "normal".  His choices were
limited- either hunt witches or be hunted himself.  Perhaps he had
sold out, betrayed his heritage by joining the ranks of those who had
killed his mother, but what other choice did a small orphaned boy
have?  At least he could be a damn good hunter; so that is exactly
what he became.  He would prove to everyone that he was no
weakling.  He resolved to be strong, so strong that he would never
again have to experience the horror of someone he loved dying in his
arms.

In truth Amon could not remember the last time he'd had sex
without a condom- protecting himself against emotional "infection" as
well, he supposed.  To Amon sex had become a simple, clinical
exchange; two strangers in mutual agreement that all they wanted from
each other was physical fulfillment without feelings, no
responsibility, no strings attached.  Each party in the
transaction got what they wanted and moved on to the next, leaving the
other person unchanged- as if they'd never even been there!- no harm,
no foul.  He made sure to only have sex with women who didn't want
a
committment any more than he did.  Amon told himself it was okay,
since he wasn't leading anyone on or breaking any hearts and all his
partners were willing adults.  But the longer it continued, the
emptier
and more corrupted
he felt.

What was he turning into?  Was he really nothing but a
cold-blooded, emotionless bastard?  And why did that bother him style="font-style: italic;">now, all of a sudden?

Amon was an attractive man, he had no problem getting a
woman when he wanted one. The dilemma was he didn't want just style="font-style: italic;">any woman, he wanted style="font-style: italic;">her- Robin, the one he loved, the
one he felt he could never have.

He usually prowled the local nightclubs to sate his sexual
appetite, but lately he
couldn't fake enough interest in any of the willing single
women to pick
one up, not even for one night of meaningless, annonymous
screwing. 
So he would go home again, throughly furious with himself
and still longing for Robin, left with nothing but a pounding need
that demanded satisfaction- and so he took the last option open to
him.  He would close his eyes and see her in his bed, beautifully
naked and reaching her arms out to him as he stroked himself, breathing
her delicious scent all around him, hearing her moan his name- and
crying
out
hers when he reached his solitary climax.  After he finished Amon
always felt even more disgusted and frustrated than before, knowing he
would always be alone.  All it would take was the thought of
Robin, or the sight of her the next day at work, and all his desires
and emotions came back full force to torment him.  So the vicious
cycle began anew.

By now, he'd mostly given up on the bars and using nameless women
to
satisfy his physical needs, since he didn't really enjoy it
anyway.  Amon got about the same pitiful release from doing it
himself as he
did from using some random vixen and then throwing her away like a used
tissue, which wasn't saying much.  And of course, doing it by
himself was the least personal way of all; that wasn't such a bad
thing, really.  The less he had to involve other people in his own
debasement the better.  Amon loathed being a user, despite being
so damnably
good at it; a
heartless asshole fucking a stranger he'd just picked up at a bar
like a carton of takeout,
without even bothering to
remember her name, for no other reason but his own selfish and
ephemeral gratification.

But what other choice was there?  Robin would never...  style="font-style: italic;">arrrgh,
never mind!

The whole situation was just
too damn depressing.

.

"Amon?"  her gentle voice snapped Amon out of his dismal trance.
At some point
during his musings Robin had gotten up from her desk and was now
standing right in front of him, without him even noticing. 
How long had she been watching him stare off into space? 
Feeling as
helpless as a yo-yo dancing on her slim finger, his emotions surged
dramatically upward at her closeness.  He loved the way she said
his name, making
it into a verbal caress.  She never said anyone else's name in
that special way,
just
his.  It was warm and husky, almost reverent with just a hint of
longing,
and so very sexy.  Every little ordinary thing she did these days
was
sexy to
him.  And Robin didn't even know she was driving him out of his
mind with desire.  The innate sensuality with which she did
everything was
as natural to her as breathing and blinking, it was totally unconscious
on her part.  Unfortunately, knowing that
only turned him
on even more.

"Hm?"  his response was noncomittal, and by some miracle his
face remained impassive, even though he felt anything but.  Amon
deliberately flipped through the gory crime scene photos he was
holding,
hoping blood and violence and death would tame his raging libido. 
It worked, for the moment at least.  style="font-style: italic;">Thank Kami. 
He exhaled a silent sigh of relief as his attention shifted just
enough to allow him to get the beast back into its cage.

"I-"  She hesitated several beats, her gleaming eyes locked to
his. 
Amon noticed the sudden weight of her gaze.  She had something
important to tell him.  His pulse raced, for what reason he wasn't
sure- dread or excitement?  What was she trying to say?  Time
seemed to slow to a crawl.  She tried again.

"Amon, I-"



to be continued...

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Jadewitch:  EVIL CLIFFY!!  MWHAHAHAHA!!