Note from Author:
This is the first story I've ever posted to fanfiction.net! Yeah!!!! I haven't written a lot of fanfic because most of my writing inspiration has gone toward an original piece of fiction I've been working on for many a year now, but I've been a reader of fanfic for a long time.
I apologize if the story is a bit OOC in places. I took some liberties with character development and back-story, but it's AU anyway since it's a crossover (I still can't believe I wrote a crossover . . . I'm generally not a fan of crossover fics, but Dante just insisted on showing up). Also, my apologies if any of my name spellings or terminology seem incorrect. I watched the show originally on fansubs with questionable translations.
Alas, Witch Hunter Robin does not belong to me, nor does Devil May Cry. I'm just borrowing the characters for a short time to give my original characters a break from their torture.
CYMON: rolls his eyes It's about time.
Oh, you enjoy the torture, Cymon, and you know it.
I should also warn you that this story may include some adult situations and fantasy violence. Parental discretion is advised. Sorry, I couldn't help myself! Just flashing back to my days of watching Highlander on USA and the stupid warning before every single episode.
Anywho . . . I hope you enjoy the story. Let me know what you think.
Shivering in the cold, Touko slipped her arm around Amon's and snuggled closer as they approached her apartment building. He did not respond to her touch, did not even look down at her with a smile or touch her hand lightly with his own. Touko knew such things should bother her, yet she pushed the thought aside with a wistful sigh. Amon was not like the men she'd dated in the past, to which part of her said he was a good thing for her since she had her share of boyfriends with stalker tendencies in the past. They had barely given her enough space to breathe, and she hated that feeling. So, she told herself, the gaping, emotionless chasm Amon kept between them was a far better thing.
Amon gently disentangled himself from her grasp as they paused at the building's front steps, but she caught his arm again with a smile. Meeting his confused glance, she explained with a smile, "It's all right. You can come up tonight. Robin said she would be out late.
His eyes narrowed. "Late?" He was clearly wondering what time "late" would mean for Robin. "I don't think that's a good idea.
Tightening her grasp on his arm, she pulled him up the steps behind her. "She said she was going to visit Michael at the office. Judging by such visits in the past, we have several hours." She looked back to see questions clouding his face as she pushed open the front door. "What is it?
Shaking his head brusquely, he replied, "Nothing." He followed her to the elevator. She let him stew in silence, amused by the way she could almost see the wheels turning in his pretty head, working away at something. She waited patiently as they stepped off on her floor and she reached for her keys, sensing he was working himself up to a question. "How often does she make these trips to see Michael?" he inquired finally.
She smiled somewhat sourly, grateful he could not see her expression with her back to him. He was so predictable sometimes. The door swung open and she stepped inside, taking off her shoes before answering him. "Oh, I don't know . . . once a week I would say. At least." She paused, watching him remove his boots and enjoying the view as he bent over. "Would you like some coffee?
His dark eyes glanced up at her for the briefest of moments. "Sure.
He didn't follow her into the kitchen, pausing for a moment at the intersection of hallways, and she caught him looking at the door to the room he certainly knew was Robin's. A frown crossed her face before she managed to suppress it. She refused to even acknowledge all the evidence he practically threw at her feet of his changing feelings for the young hunter, supposing he was as unaware of the evidence as he was of the feelings. Even so, Touko knew in her gut that with all the proof piling up, it would soon be high enough for them to start tripping over it. She would rather avoid such thoughts though. Her father had warned her she was making a mistake by pursuing Amon, but she hadn't listened. Now, she refused to admit he was right, and so continued to delude herself with the notion that she could keep Amon chained to her no matter what happened.
Smiling seductively once she had the coffee brewing, she wandered her way across the room to where Amon waited, seated silently on the couch. He watched her without expression, but she could sense a fire burning behind his eyes. She slid down on the couch next to him, folding one of her legs under her, relishing the feeling of knowing he wanted her. With the knowledge that she would probably never know his feelings, or even if she was part of them, she enjoyed the satisfaction of the hold she had on him through his need. Tension built in the air between them as she waited, testing his patience, forcing him to make the first move.
Control of the situation completely eluded her grasp though when she found herself sandwiched between him and the huge pillow at the end of the couch, his lips and tongue exploring hers with feverish need. Having difficulty breathing, let alone thinking, she didn't have the faculties to recall exactly how they had gotten into such a position, nor did she truly care. She was as hungry for him as he was for her.
Hands touched her, tracing familiar paths in their accustomed ritual. Such encounters with Amon were becoming habit for both of them, and they both fell into the pattern with such abandon they momentarily forgot they were in her apartment and not his. Her hands had adeptly unbuttoned half his shirt and his hands had pushed her skirt nearly up to her waist before they heard the key in the lock.
Amon pulled away from her and rose to his feet as if he had been burned, leaving her feeling very chilled and vulnerable on the couch. She watched his back as she heard the door open, watching his muscles move beneath his shirt as his lungs expanded and contracted with ragged breaths.
Keys rattled to the floor.
Touko stood up suddenly, pushing her skirt down in haste. She felt very annoyed with Amon, though she wasn't completely sure why. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed almost ashamed of what they had been doing, turning his back on her without a second thought. The evidence piled a little higher. She spun on her heel and flew past the stunned girl in the doorway without even looking in her direction, stomping into her room and practically slamming the door. Well, that was mature, Touko, she thought to herself as she leaned back against the closed door. Its good to see you can still throw a tantrum like a two-year-old. A tear slid down her face and dropped to the floor, disappearing in the carpet.
Amon felt Robin's green eyes boring holes into his back without even seeing them. He didn't need to look at her to imagine the look of shock on her expressive face in vivid detail down to the stray bangs falling in her face and the flush coloring her cheeks. The room suddenly felt very cold and he repressed a shiver, refusing to button his shirt back up like some embarrassed adolescent caught doing something he shouldn't. He had a sneaking suspicion that this situation wouldn't be affecting him so deeply if it had been anyone other than Robin who had walked though that door.
"Amon . . ." The way she always whispered his name as if it were a prayer tugged at something deep inside him. How she managed to break through all his defenses as if they were paper with that one word baffled him, and yet she did every time she spoke it, no matter the circumstances, no matter his frame of mind at the time. "I-I'm sorry," Robin continued in her ethereal half-whisper despairingly.
He heard the sound of her skirt against the floor as she turned back to the door. "Robin." He didn't think he had quite snapped at her, though he could imagine her flinch. "Stay. I'm leaving." He reached for his coat and threw it around his shoulders, fastening it hastily, his shirt still unbuttoned beneath.
Robin didn't even look up at him as he passed her, and he was grateful because he had been dreading the look in her eyes. She stood to one side of the entrance like a lost child, looking down at her feet. "I'm sorry," he heard her whisper again faintly as he flew down the stairs.
He probably should have at least said something to Touko before he left, but he found he felt little regret in not doing so. They shouldn't have risked going up to her apartment in the first place, let alone allowed themselves to get carried away. Robin already knew about their relationship from what Touko had told him, but it was too awkward to act so openly about it around her. Especially when she was so damned innocent. How she could act like she was thirty half the time and still be so naive was beyond him. Robin was a conundrum; a quandary he was forced to live with which just kept getting more and more complicated. He was beginning to think he would never solve the riddle, and should not even try, because she was dangerous in her own right . . . so dangerous, and yet in so much danger.
What was it about the gentle, soft-spoken, waif of a girl that always unsettled him--aside from the obvious reasons associated with Zaizen's worries? She perpetually found a way through his defenses, and he found himself accommodating her in spite of his better sense. The thought that he would allow anyone to have such power over him frightened him enough to make his mouth dry. But the question remained, how? How did she overpower him so easily? It wasn't physical attraction. Her appearance was striking, though she was not a conventional sort of beauty, and she was hardly old enough to possess the mature figure which had drawn him to Touko. But if it was simply her appearance, which captivated him so relentlessly, he knew he could have mastered the desire long ago.
No, it was far beyond lust. Zaizen had asked him in the past why he went out of his way for this girl he was supposed to keep his eye on and kill if necessary. But Amon wondered how anyone could refuse the temptation to do whatever it took to please her when they saw that look in her eyes. The look which made him ache inside with the desire to turn his back on all his orders and all his common sense and all his years of emotional exile, and simply gather her into his arms and hold her until she forgot whatever it was that made her eyes so eternally sad and lonely. Her sweet innocence and silent, gentle perseverance in the face of cruelty and contempt--gifts he had showered her with since her arrival--stunned him into senselessness and made him respect her despite every logical thought which told him to keep her as distant from him as the stars. Time, and time again, regardless of his efforts, regardless of his orders, he found himself seeing the stars in her eyes, close enough to touch, and worshipping them.
Shaking such thoughts out of his head, he stepped out of the building, breathing the cold air into his lungs with relief. He wondered what Touko was thinking right now. If she was resentful with him for leaving her with her hunger unsated. A bitter smile touched his lips. He wondered if she knew that it had been quite some time since she had been able to sate his own hunger. His appetite kept growing, in spite of himself, every time he looked in that young craft user's eyes.