Glasses

a/n: This takes place between episodes 3 and 4.

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin, nor do I make money from writing. Ah well, one can always wish.

Sitting in the darkness of his apartment, a glass of bourbon in hand, Amon let his mind wander briefly before his eyes lighted on the table. In the darkness, he could barely see the outline of the glasses he had just bought, their metallic rims catching a small amount of the streetlight that filtered into the room.

So what was he going to say about giving Robin these glasses? Zaizen, at least, would want to know. Amon himself wasn't sure that he even really knew.

He had started talking to Karasuma about it the other day. He hadn't meant to. He had simply been mulling it it over in his head, trying to puzzle out for himself what was going on with Robin and her inability to aim her craft. Belatedly, though, Amon had realized that he'd actually spoken his thoughts out loud.

He sighed to himself. Remembering her response, Amon smirked to himself. It's not like you to worry about other people. If only Karasuma knew the half of it. No, he actually did worry about his coworkers and the very small few he called 'friend', but it was a detached, distanced worry. He didn't like getting too close. No, it was more that he didn't like anyone getting too close to himself. Letting people get close to himself was dangerous for everyone involved.

It still didn't answer why he planned to give Robin these glasses. In fact, his normal persona screamed that this was just insane.

Amon would fully admit, at least to himself, that Robin's craft was amazing. He would even go so far as to admit that she was still in control of her powers. No, he couldn't acquiesce to that. She missed her targets too much for that. Thinking a moment, he decided that the better phrase was that her powers weren't controlling her.

So, the question was why couldn't she control her powers? Fire was far too dangerous a thing if you couldn't control it. Was she just not strong enough? If that were the case, would she ever be able to control her craft? These were both possible, though somehow he doubted it. Maybe she just didn't have the confidence needed to truly harness the craft. While he didn't have direct knowledge of how these things worked, he could believe this option.

Of all the possible reasons he could conjure up regarding Robin's misfirings, that last one always seemed to come to the forefront of possibilities in his mind. She was soft spoken and shy. It wasn't a quiet aloofness such as what he presented to the world. It was a quiet timidness that often made him think of a mouse.

A green-eyed church mouse. Now that was a mental image that almost made him chuckle.

He knew that if her main problem was a lack of confidence, he would probably make it worse. He had spent far too long shutting everyone out. By his own nature, he knew that he would push her away all the more because of his concern for her. That's just how he worked. Again, he would never admit this to anyone. If cornered, he would say it was for his own protection. He couldn't hunt while having to keep an eye out for a partner that might accidentally set him on fire in the middle of it.

He winced at the image of the timid church mouse glaring at him just before trying to set him on fire.

Amon's mind tended to run through this after every hunt he had with the girl. Luckily she hadn't set anyone aflame yet. Lucky, too, that while she was obviously hurt by his condescending words, Robin's aim wasn't really getting any worse. That was a good thing. The last thing he wanted to do was hunt another coworker.

Scratch that. The last thing he wanted to do was hunt her With a brief shiver down his spine, he shoved that thought out of his mind. He knew that the fact it had even occurred meant he was letting her get too close to him. He hated the feeling of vulnerability that went with letting people get too close. He would definitely have to keep his guard up with her.

Ah, but the funny thing about mice is that they can get through even the tiniest of holes. Amon shoved that thought aside as well.

So, why the glasses? He forced himself to refocus on the original topic.

Strangely enough, Michael had unwittingly given him the idea. The man they had hunted earlier that day, Kurata, had a scarab tattoo on his hand. Michael had said something about some witches needing some sort of symbol to help them focus their craft. The thought occurred to him that maybe she needed a symbol – a talisman.

He had pondered the thought most of the rest of the day. Amon liked the idea, but he cringed at the thought of stepping out of his normal aloofness and speaking directly to her about it. No, he would have to come up with something that seemed to have a different function.

So, what would have a function that could indirectly be linked to helping her with her craft? From what he had discerned, it seemed that Robin's flame came from her eyes. He could almost swear that, the few times he had watched, a fire smoldered in those green eyes just before something caught fire.

Then, in a eureka kind of moment, it hit him – glasses. He was sure he could convince her that she couldn't aim because her eyesight was off. That wouldn't be too hard to do. She was already fearful of him. Add to that the fact that she seemed to keep trying to prove to him that she could pull her own weight, all he had to do is use both of those against her and he would win.

He had bought the half-moon spectacles on his way home that evening. He knew she likely wouldn't like them, but of all the ones at the store, these actually seemed to be her style. Now all Amon had to do was figure out what to tell Zaizen when he asked the inevitable question of 'Why'. The others would think it, but they wouldn't dare actually ask. Zaizen, on the other hand would not only ask 'why', but would likely be angry that Amon had gone out of his way to help the girl. He definitely wasn't going to tell the Administrator the whole of it. Amon thought he likely wouldn't end up telling the man any of the actual truth.

He also had to figure out how to give them to Robin. It had to be some way so that everyone on the team knew about them, but at the same time in such a way so that he didn't get out of his normal, closed demeanor.

He sat back, gazing out his window at the dark streets below, almost smiling at how well this little plan of his was turning out.

Now, if only he could banish this image of a green-eyed, bespectacled church mouse trying to set him on fire.

A/N: Thanks, Roo, for the grammar suggestions!