He had told himself this forty-two times before he forced himself to stop. The street was deserted and quiet at 2:00 in the morning, leaving him alone to his thoughts and the steady fall of the rain. Water beat onto his shoulders and soaked through his many layers of clothing as he tilted his head back and let it hit him fully in the face. Maybe it would wash his guilt away with it. His guilt for wanting her so damn much, for leading her into thinking something conclusive and real could ever come of what they had. The timing was bad, the situation was worse, and his thoughts weren't helping any.

/next time/

What next time? The next time he decided to drop in and ask for a place to stay? To ask if he could sleep with her? Amon closed his eyes against the onslaught of the rain and sighed, the sound lost over the noise of the downpour. It wasn't as if he was afraid or confused as to what the next step was. There was just no possible way that he could ever—

If he just stopped thinking about it, then it wouldn't be such a problem. Thinking and dwelling never got him anywhere. He forced himself to keep walking, his pace unsteady and slow as he beat through the thick haze of rain that surrounded the small street corner. If he went back now he would do something brash, something he couldn't take back in the morning. If he went back now there was no way he would ever be able to not touch her.

She was everything he wanted so desperately to avoid becoming close to. Not only would he be killed for his actions by the STN-J but she would most likely become a target to be hunted for becoming too close to him. STN-J's most valuable member, taken down for loving a witch. Is that how they would write him off? He wouldn't be able to escape once it had started, and he would never be able to abandon her if the situation called for it. If they found out about them they would both be killed for their actions. It wasn't a question of want or desire so much as simple selfishness. There were some things you were supposed to avoid getting into, and this was one of them.

Even though his entire body burned to be near her.

Amon stopped suddenly, his feet having taken him to an all too familiar location. He looked up, the rain dripping into his eyes and obscuring his vision as he tried to search out her window. The faint yellow glow illuminated a small frame as it passed by the window quickly, allowing him a fleeing glimpse of the person he sought out. She was a lone and walking about her apartment at two in the morning. She should be resting for tomorrow's hunt. Amon shook his head. He was one to talk, haunting her doorstep at nearly three in the morning. But that was different, he was going to—

What? Talk to her? Ask her to invite him in, soaking wet and pleading in her doorway? This was ridiculous. He didn't need her pity and he certainly didn't need to be tempted by her image when his mind was already overworked from memories of it. The sound of the window being opened slowly only reaffirmed his desire to leave and this time he complied, stepping off the curb and retreating back to the lonely street. He would have kept walking if not for the sudden sound of her voice drifting through the window and down to his dripping form. He stopped, listening. The low lilting tune of a song floated through his quiet street, pulling him toward the window by its sound. The low sound of a piano interrupted her and he watched with stunned amusement as she passed the open window again, her form swaying back and forth to the tune. Her lips were moving but he could no longer hear her over the slow melody of the song. The words filtered down to him as he stepped closer to catch them.

"At first I thought that you could break this jinx for me / That love would turn the trick to end despair / but now I just can't fool this head that thinks for me / I've mortgaged all my castles in the air."

He became entranced with watching her swaying form, her back as it arched gracefully, the way her eyes closed in response to certain notes. It was an old song, quiet and peaceful but with a concealed longing that didn't elude him. It seemed to fit her, in an odd way. Old fashioned yet holding a modern message.

"I've telegraphed and phoned and sent an airmail special too / Your answer was goodbye and there was even postage due / I fell in love just once - it had to be with you / Everything happens to me."

The song continued to play as he made his decision, his legs carrying him up the stairs to the door of her apartment. He knocked twice, quickly; as if afraid she wouldn't come soon enough. The sound of something being shifted came from inside, and he reached up to knock again when he heard her quick footsteps toward the door. The latch unlocked and the door pulled back, revealing her surprised face as she realized it was Amon who knocked so urgently. He brushed past her without asking permission to come in and strode into the center of the living room, dimly aware that she had closed the door and locked it behind him. He watched as she peered out the little window next to the door to see if anyone had followed him before turning around to meet his desperate gaze.

He wasn't sure why he was here right now. In fact, the event of coming near her apartment was a blur to him. But that song, the way she danced, the soft light that came from the room—all of it had built up inside him until he couldn't resist seeing her. He made no move to approach her as she stood only a few feet away from him, her eyes wide in momentary confusion.

"Amon," she spoke finally, the sound of her voice bringing him out of his reverie. "You're soaking."

He looked down briefly to see a small puddle forming at his feet. He probably should have at least taken his shoes off. The thought came as amusing to him and he would have laughed aloud had the situation not already been so odd. There was still no rational explanation for why he stood here now, staring at her like a crazed idiot who didn't know his own mind. It had all been a rush of emotion, a violent reaction to the situation that he should have ignored as he always had and just walked away.

The sound of the record player starting over drew his attention and he looked away from her briefly to watch as it set up the song once again. Soft piano now filtered into the room as they stood staring at one another, waiting for the other to speak.

"I'm sorry," Amon spoke first, his voice cracking slightly. "I shouldn't have just barged in on you like that."

She shook her head, her blond hair bouncing against her shoulders. Her hair was down today, the soft hues of blond playing in the dim light as it fell softly past her shoulders. He knew he must have appeared a mess to her, his black hair sticking to his neck and the sides of his face as it dried in the air, black boots and jacket making squishy sounds from an over excess of water. At the time his image had been the furthest thing from his mind. What he had wanted was to be near her, to touch her, to tell her what he felt. But now that he stood in front of her he was unsure, his strength wavering as she stood staring at him with such an open expression. Now he felt as if he didn't belong and the entire situation seemed awkward to him somehow. He was a foreign object in her household and he needed to get out now.

"Did you come here just to tell me that?" She asked, a small smile tilting the corner of her lips. And just like that the feeling came rushing back—the need to talk to her, to express to her that he was pushing her away for a reason; that they could never do this but he needed so desperately to have her just one time.

"No," he said lowly, walking toward her with carefully calculated steps. He saw her react slightly to his change in attitude, watching as her face switched from dimly amused to silently aware. She knew why he had come here.

Amon stopped when he was close enough to touch her, though he kept his arms firmly at his side. "I came here to," He stopped. The air around them seemed to become thicker as she stared up at him, her green eyes hooded and clouded over with something he couldn't place. "I needed to tell you," He stopped again. Why couldn't he get the words out now that he was so close to her?

She reached up a hand and touched the side of his face, trailing her fingers along his jawbone until he shut his eyes against the feeling that invaded his body.

"How long will this last?" She whispered, her hand stopping to rest briefly at the side of his face before falling back to her side. He looked into her eyes, wondering briefly if he should lie to her to keep her pacified or to tell her everything right here.

"Until the next time you push me away?" she answered herself, her eyes never leaving his. He fought a losing battle with her gaze, wanting to look away but fearing what would happen if he did.

"I can't," he shook his head. She nodded and moved to step back. His arm shot out and grasped hers, pulling her back into him. "I can't stop this." The moment seemed to draw on forever, his eyes roaming over her face to take in her expression perfectly. The way her eyebrows knitted together in brief confusion before falling away to reveal what looked like understanding. Her lips parted slightly, her hand shifting at her side to reach out for his.

"No," she breathed as his face drew closer. "You can't."

His lips met hers.

It wasn't at all what he had expected. She didn't pull away like she did in his dreams. There was no fire there to burn him when he touched her, as if to deter him from holding her. There would be no punishment for this.

Instead she received his kiss and returned it; her lips brushing softly against his. The kiss was chaste and slow as they both entered this new territory tentatively, both unwilling to let it consume them. He felt her arms come up wrap around his back as he leaned further into her, drawing a low moan from her lips as his own hands brushed against the small of her back. She tasted like lavender and honey. Her body felt fragile in his arms as he tightened his grip around her, not wanting to let her go but wanting desperately not to hurt her. His paradox of emotions overwhelmed him until he broke, his lips moving away from hers as his head fell to rest at the crook of her neck.

The song had stopped, the low hum of the record player as it spun on the wheel the only other sound in the room. Robin's arms were still wrapped around his back as he bent into her small frame, his entire body overcome by the presence of her.

"Robin," he breathed, tickling the hairs at the base of her neck. She sighed softly and closed her eyes, her hands coming up to entwine in his hair. He shuddered and pulled back, forcing her hands to drop to his shoulders. This time she was the one who advanced. Standing nearly on tip-toe to reach his full height she brushed her lips over his, her tongue snaking out briefly to catch the edge of his bottom lip. He growled, grabbing her about the hips and pulled her further into the kiss. His hand came up to brace her back as she arched herself into him, his own neck bent to reach her. Their noses bumped and suddenly she broke away, her hand coming up to brush against the rawness of her lips. They both separated momentarily, he stumbling back and running a hand through his now dry hair.

Amon closed his eyes briefly, silently berating himself for his actions. He should never have let it continue that long. There was no way out of this now they were both going to have to—

She laughed.

Amon looked up, startled, to see her shoulders begin to shake as another laugh racked her body. Followed by another, and another, until her entire frame was overtaken by them and she was forced to bend over, her hand still pressed feebly to her mouth. She looked up, her eyes still somewhat glazed over from the earlier event but aware for the most part and full of a kind of amusement Amon couldn't figure out. What, exactly, was she laughing about?

He smirked, his lips moving upward of their own free will as he watched the girl before him begin to outright cackle. Before he knew it a small laugh escaped his lips and he shook his head as more suddenly followed, the action feeling strange in his throat.

"Robin," he laughed, his voice light as he approached her. "Robin, what the hell is so funny?"

For a moment he thought he was going to have to shake her to get her to stop laughing like that but at the sound of her name the laughter slowly receded until all that was left was a dimly amused expression in her eyes.

"You," she laughed again slightly. "You stepped on my toe."

Oh. Well then.

Amon furrowed his brow, confused. That's what she had been laughing about? She smiled up at him, the image drawing a smile to his lips.

"I'm sorry." He laughed.

She shook her head. "It's ok. I think I might have bit you."

He smirked. "I didn't mind."

She blushed.

Robin looked away, her tongue coming out to moisten her lips. Amon looked down, the smile still playing at the edges of his mouth. She was truly beautiful when she laughed. He wanted to see her happy like that again, to be the cause of that happiness. But he honestly didn't know how long this would last, how long he could keep her with him without putting her in danger.

A quick movement caught his eye and he looked up to find her hand outstretched toward him. Without hesitation he took it, the action forcing him closer to her.

"I'm glad that you came back." She said.

Amon smiled, breathing in the scent of her as she shifted her body into his. "I am too."

They stood together, both watching the rain as it began to slow outside, the morning mist already settling in the air, and the record player humming quietly in the background.

**Author's Note**

Ok. Yeah, so I know I said I didn't really plan on another chapter, but you guys are just so nice to me that I had to do it. That and I got the idea the other day while I was zoning out in lecture and it was raining. So, it may have been a little cheesy but I was in a cheesy mood. I hope it wasn't disgustingly so. But I'm fairly certain that's the last chapter this time. I swear. Mainly because I really don't know where I'd go with it after this, and I'd kind of like it to end on the light note that it has. The whole idea of a kiss seemed kind of awkward to me at first, but as I wrote it just seemed to kind of weave its own way in. The laugher afterward was a nice way to lighten the mood and end the story on a decent note. I hope it didn't come off as awkward. Well anyway, I hope I didn't chase you off with the immense overload of cheese. That would be sad. Oh yeah, and the song Robin is listening to is "Everything happens to me" by Chet Baker. Props to Jake for that one.