A Very Stormy Christmas Eve

by Meeko Melodie

Meeko: Yay, my second WHR fiction and this one is a special one just for Christmas. Man, I love Christmas, and you guys know what the best part is? No, not the presents, okay, maybe part of it, but I love the snow the best. Anyway, Witch Hunter Robin does not and will not belong to me so don't sue me, thank you.

Credit: Joanne. See? I told you I'll write you down here! Ha! Now read and give me a review, okay? Thanks!

Summary: Christmas Eve. Vicious weather. Stormy mood. Reality sucks. Dream is too good. What's going to happen when a moody Robin and a stormy holiday join forces to attack Amon? Amon X Robin PG-13 for language and romantic situations


The annoying beeping of the communicator was growing louder as Amon twisted and turned in his black sheets. It was still pitch dark outside.

Picking up the phone, he mumbled with a coarse voice, "yes?" Apparently, he was still half-asleep.

"Amon, get to Shinjuku Station with Robin quick, there's a witch on the loose," Michael reported urgently. Amon sighed in frustration, can't someone have a sleep-in day before Christmas? Jeez, it's only what? Four o'clock! Damn it!

"Have you called Robin yet?" he inquired sleepily, and dragged himself out of bed. Cold air in the room stung his bare chest and he swore out loud without fail, "holy shit! What the hell is wrong with the bloody heater?!"

"Uh... Amon?" Michael started uncertainly.

"What?!" he snapped, hurrying into the bathroom. Wow, he's really pissed, isn't he? Michael thought, then repied as a second thought, "never mind, I already gave a call to Robin, she said she will be there in half an hour."

"Okay." He snapped it shut. Now fully awake by the evil coldness that attacked him just seconds ago, he stared at his reflection on the mirror. Messy, raven hair sticking in every direction from sleep; sleepy, unshaved face; and his reflection of the monotone shade of gray eyes glaring back at him.

Yet, he saw with dismay when something else flickered weakly behind those cold barriers. A slight onslaught of emotions trying desperately to sneak out, struggling to be free. He frowned; he wasn't like that before. It was after the meeting of Robin that he started to see it, those struggling emotions. He threw his thoughts to the back of his mind as he did his morning routine and dressed himself for the day.

She stared up at the midnight blue sky, of which a scattering pattern of stars were still visible. The white, blinding streetlights guarding the deserted path were the only source of light in the eerie darkness. Occasional flakes of snow were fluttering in the moving streams of air and a few were stuck in between the young girl's cinnamon locks.

The early morning air was bitterly cold and Robin couldn't help but shuddered as the breeze picked up, slicing its invisible knife along her bare neck.

Where is she? In Robin's brain only one question rang out. Here she was, standing on an empty street, in the dark, and on the way to becoming a Popsicle, just because there was a witch roaming in this area a day before Christmas. Don't these witches go on holidays? She thought with dark humor, though she didn't think it was all that funny.

And where's Amon? She thought as her mind drifted back onto that emotionless face of the dark hunter. She sighed; it seemed that in every waking moments, she would be thinking about her stoic partner. She didn't know why but the image of his cold, expressionless face always swam up to the surface of her mind whenever Robin least expected it.

A scraping noise on the ground immediately broke into her thoughts as she turned her head sharply towards the source of the sound. She listened hard, not even daring to breathe as she slowly put on her spectacles, ready for attack.

Sc—crap - ! There it was again and without waiting for her partner, Robin decided to risk it and went after the noise. He wouldn't be mad, would he? She thought consciously as she softly took steps into the maze-like system of alley. The ancient brick walls surrounded her like a protective shield, or a cage of trap; every corner looked like there might be a shadow lurking under the pale star light. Maybe she should turn back? Robin's chest was hurting badly from the unstoppable pounding nervousness, but she shook her head at no one in particular. No, I can do this on my own, I'm not a child anymore, she thought with a new force of determination, the sooner this is finish, the sooner I can get out of this cold. With her mind made up, she decided to walk on.


Her emerald eyes grew wide with shock.

Blocking her path was a woman.

No, a witch, Robin corrected automatically in her head.

Indeed, this young woman was anything but human. Her long, sleek hair was white, which could compete with the falling snow; her pale, milk-white face was slender touch with a kind of beauty that no human could possess and her eyes, those eyes with the shade of cobalt blue were like crystallize pieces of ice. On her lean body, she only wore a spaghetti strap skirt made of a floaty material that was lifted off from the snow-covered ground by the howling wind. She wasn't even shaking.

Without so much of a word, the nameless witch held out her right hand, palm facing Robin. For a second there, Robin just blinked but common sense finally got to her when she saw a glittering gaseous mixture forming where the girl's hand were and it was twirling like a tiny tornado; she dodged it just in time as the sparkling substance flew right above her head. Curiously, Robin glanced back at the brick wall except it was no longer a brick wall anymore. Illuminating the star lights, a large spot of the wall was covered by a layer of ice.

Robin faced her opponent once more, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Without warning, the witch did the same trick again, but this time, Robin was ready for her. She dodged easily away and her green eyes flashed with a shadow of flames as real ones began to shoot out from thin air and towards the witch.

Instinctively, the witch drew up an ice barrier to block the bursting flames but even the barrier was melted half-way off when the flicker of fire went off. Starting to get frustrated, the witch sharply threw something from her hands. Those 'something' pierced through the night air; Robin saw it coming too but she couldn't make her legs move. Eyes wide with utter shock, Robin understood why: her feet were trapped in a big block of ice without her noticing.

The deadly weapons were still aiming towards the pyrokinesis and she lowered herself as much as possible. Many flew past her and Robin could even heard one whistled by the side of her ear. But she hissed with agony when a sudden slice of heat cut across her left arm.

Robin let out something between a scream and a moan as the gash grew deeper; dark crimson blood marooning her skin as it snaked its way down, and finally dropping on the frosted ground. The dripping of her blood made a horrible sound against the quiet night. She didn't even notice that the sky was turning into hazy shades of orange and dashes of purple as the sun timidly peaked out from the horizon.

Amon paced back and forth impatiently as the sky above him was slowly turning lighter. Pale pink of glints shone softly over his moving figure, casting a faint shadow on the white ground.

Where is she? Amon was thinking. He took out his communicator and was about to call her when a noise caught his ear.

A scream.

Or more like something between a gasp and a scream. But whatever it was, it definitely did not sound good.

"Shit," Amon muttered, his legs carrying him into the mysterious alley ways and only one word flashed in his mind. Robin. His long trench coat flew behind him as he ran, wind howling in his ears but it was his instinct that carried him. The flapping tail of his coat was like a bat's wings, making its action to fly and hide away from the bright light.

Amon halted to an abrupt stop when he finally reached his destination. Off one side was a young woman wearing white, her hand still outstretched from her last attack and a few feet from her...

His icy gaze softened with sympathy when he saw a shivering Robin holding on to her arm; bright red liquid still flowing from a deep gash just above her elbow. Beside her, a pool of maroon had already formed. He took out his Orbo gun and carefully aimed at the motionless witch, while making his way slowly to his injured partner.

"Amon ... " she called to him softly, her voice sounded dry, as if she had just woken up. Too much blood loss, was Amon's first thought.

"What is it?" his voice stayed indifferent as he crouched down beside her; his cool orbs glaring at the white-haired witch but she stayed still like a sculpture.

"Amon ..." she started again, slowly pushing herself off the ground but her legs gave in; she fell into Amon's arms. Robin glanced at Amon thankfully but she leaned for the cold wall for support after she had gained her balance. "Amon ... I can do this," she stated.

"Do what?"

"Hunt her down," she nodded at the still woman. At the mention of her presence, she laughed.

A small, but none-the-less cold laugh. The two hunters' hair stood on end.

"So, you think you can beat me?" her voice was thick with laughter, but her cobalt eyes were still as cold as ever.

"Yes," Robin's green eyes began to light up but Amon tugged at her arm.

"What are you doing?" Amon half-shouted, "you're injured!"

"It does not matter," she argued, though her face betrayed her when it twisted with affliction from the movement. Her already bloodied hand was still covering the cut; blood continued to escape from her weak body.

"It does matter," Amon replied heatedly, doesn't she understand at all? "Do you want to die so badly, god-damn-it!" His outburst silenced Robin. But slowly, she shook her head and stared straight at the smirking witch; she said to Amon calmly, "I can do this, Amon, trust me for once. I'm not a child anymore."

Without waiting for an answer, her eyes lit up, calling upon the dancing flames which formed a burning twister making its way towards the opponent. A blur of white escaped as she did a front flip and landed lightly without a scratch. She didn't waste any time as she threw out her deadly weapon once she was stable. Thousand upon thousand of tiny ice needles all heading Amon's and Robin's direction, cleaving through the cold air and straight for the target.

Amon could not make himself move; gun was useless at the moment and the only thing he could think of was to protect the innocent girl standing so close to him. He wouldn't let himself live if something were to happen to Robin. Why? This question ran through Amon's system for what must had been the umpteenth time. Why does he always have the urge to protect her? She was just a mere girl, right? Another witch, to be exact, with powers. So what? He couldn't deny his feelings, no matter how much he hated to admit it.

He had let those struggling emotions free since his meeting with Robin.

It was not a mere coincidence.

Everything happened served a purpose in life and this is no exception.

He rushed to Robin, cursing when he saw Robin not making a move to escape.

"Damn it!" Amon shouted with slight anger. What is she doing? Why isn't she escaping? Run! Lay down! Jump! Do something! Anything! He screamed in his mind.

They were coming closer, those glinting needle points, shining and blinking as if signaling their death was coming near. Well, Amon would not let that happen.

At least not to Robin.

He pulled Robin into his strong embrace, turning her away from the incoming needles of ice. Amon squeezed his eyes tight, waiting for the searing pain and his thoughts were only on Robin as her scented drifted under his nose.

Amon waited for the pain to come...

It never did.

He released Robin but still holding her shoulders. The lingering shadows of fire were still dancing in Robin's emerald orbs. As he turned around, Amon only saw a large puddle. Circles were growing wider with each droplet of melted ice points fell lightly into the pool.

Robin was ready to face the music when she sense Amon's cold gaze back at her.

"What were you thinking?" he growled. Robin knew her partner never yelled, not when he was angry anyway. But his growling... That was another story.

"I told you I can do it," Robin stated calmly, but she couldn't look at the emotionless hunter in the eye. His silvery gray orbs were the most intriguing, yet also the most frightening thing for Robin.

"You almost got yourself killed, God-damn-it," he was desperately mad, if that was even possible, "is she worth it?" Speaking of which...

Amon looked around. Of course, she would be long gone by now. He turned his stern gaze back at the girl standing in front of him, who shifted ever so slightly on the spot with discomfort.

Robin didn't reply, but stared at the ground, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"If you wanted to end your life that badly, you should have told me so," his voice cold and Robin shivered at its harshness, " and I would've gladly complied." With that said, he trotted away, dragging his feet a little in a tired manner.

Robin lifted her gaze off from the ground and stared at the lonely silhouette who was Amon. In the back of her mind, she wondered, could he possibly... could he possibly care about me?

Meeko: There you go! I know it's not the most interesting chapter ever, but please wait with your wonderful patience and the best part is coming up soon. Please press that little button just below this page and click on the review button. Comments good or bad will be very much appreciated!