Robin could feel her rage rising as she stared at the man who
twiddled the switch between his hands. "You'd like to kill me, wouldn't you
little Robin?" He asked. "And all for one who betrayed you. How long have
you shared Amon's bed?"
The power behind her eyes, trapped in her skin was unbearable. It broke free of her bindings, as she shouted her rage aloud to the world...
The man before her went up in flame.
"Robin!" Amon's hand gripped her shoulder as she flailed upright in her bed. She looked up at the man, and tried to keep from clinging to him.
"I'm sorry," She said, realizing her screams must have brought him from the room across the hall.
"I was up anyway. It's five." He told her. "The same dream?"
She shook her head, and he looked at her a moment, then said in a surprisingly gentle voice,
"You are not a precognitive to my knowledge. I have tested you for all the crafts. Besides fire and witch-sensing, the only potential I have seen is that for mind speech, which you have not manifested."
She nodded, and his hand released her shoulder. "Meet me at the usual café tonight," He told her, and then went into the shower. She sighed. They had lived in London, Rome, Chicago, Versailles, Hong Kong, and now Paris in the past year, and she regretted the fact that both of them were usually too busy to have time for one another. Both worked, and then in the evening hunted separately. Paris was full of witches. The only time they saw one another was at night, when they met for a meal at the café down the street from their tiny apartment.
She closed her eyes, wishing for different circumstances. She remembered the first time she had tried a solo hunt. It had been the last time that he had shown any affection towards her, beside his usual camaraderie...
Robin could tell that Amon didn't want her to go alone, but both problems had to be taken care of. Silently he handed her a vial of orbo, which she accepted with a shudder. She hated the stuff, but knew he was only trying to protect her.
"He's three blocks from the cathedral," He told her. She nodded and ran off, before he could say anymore.
The witch was stronger than she had anticipated. She was weary, and couldn't summon the strength to use her craft, and flinched back, holding her orbo.
A well-placed attack shattered the vial, and the sticky green fluid splashed all over her body. She screamed in agony, fire racing through her body, destroying her from the inside. Vaguely, as she mercifully fainted, she heard Amon's voice in a full-throated roar of fury.
She revived in the Roman hospital a week and a half later. A haggard looking Amon swept her into his arms, murmuring in her native Italian,
"I thought you had died on me, Little Bird..."
She heard the bathroom door open, and went to use the shower. As a bare-chested, wet Amon passed her, he said in a low voice in Italian,
"I worry about you, Little Bird. I do care about you."
Robin slid wearily into the bench across from Amon, and smiled as she noticed his nostrils flare as he ensured that there was no more scent on her of orbo.
"I'm fine, Amon!" She assured him. He frowned slightly as he noticed her weariness and remembered the incident in question. She reached across the table and took his hand. Hesitantly, as if unsure of her reaction, as well as his own actions, he leaned across the table as if to kiss her.
Amon's communicator went off.
He muttered something uncomplimentary in Japanese, too low for her to catch, and answered it, releasing her hand.
"What is it, Michael?"
"It is you! You're alive! I thought the Boss Man upstairs was playing an April's Fool joke on me!"
"Get to the point."
"He said that he wanted you home right away." Michael looked confused. "His exact words were 'tell Amon his French vacation is over', whatever that means."
Amon didn't bother to reply. He shut off the communicator, and turned to Robin.
"I'll be back in a few days."
"I'm coming with you, Amon."
"No, Robin."
"We're a team. Fire creates a hot breeze, and air feeds a fire. Besides," She said, gently manipulating Amon. "The safest place for me is at your side."
"You're being sentimental, Robin. There is no place for sentimentality in the organization."
She looked at him in mute appeal. Finally, he sighed and led her back to the apartment. She handed him the orbo gun, as he caught Evening by the scruff of the neck and dropped her into Robin's pocket.
A slim figure slipped down the halls of the STN-J office as her masculine partner openly walked upstairs into the offices on the higher levels. She paused, breathing in the old scents, and typed in the old security password she had learned so well in her days as a member of the hunting team.
The door slipped open without the slightest resistance. Michael, without turning around, commented,
"We didn't expect you for several more hours, Amon my man."
"Amon is upstairs with the head of the organization, Michael. How have you been?"
The donut Michael held between his lips fell as his jaws snapped open in surprise. Before the treat he had been eating (or the box of donuts he knocked over in his haste) hit the floor, he had crossed the room and tackled Robin. Her breast pocket squeaked.
"Umm, Robin?" Dojima said, entering the room, hiding her delight behind her ditzy-ness. "Those are some weird implants. They squeaked."
Blushing, Robin pulled out an indignant kitten. Evening yowled at the sight of the two strangers, and Dojima squealed,
"Aw! She's so cute! Can I hold her?"
Sakaki and Karasuma had been ignoring the discussion, for some reason.
"It's a pleasure to see you after a two year separation as well, Dojima." Robin said in her normal polite tones. At that show of courtesy, Sakaki's Game Boy went over his shoulder, and Karasuma broke her spare scrying mirror (which she used in an attempt to see whether she could use some of the other culture's methods). Both tackled a bemused Robin, crying greetings.
"It really is you!" Sakaki said. "We thought you were another one of those imposters Dojima brings in to cheer us up when she thinks that we've been getting too gloomy. The fake Amon backfired. We nearly lynched the guy."
At that precise moment, Amon walked through the office door. "Robin, the boss wants to see you in his offices immediately. Alone."
As the others gasped in shock, Robin walked across the room to him. She handed him Evening, and he slipped his orbo gun into her pocket. She stepped around him into the elevator, and was gone.
Robin stood nervously outside the door that had shaped the past two years of her life. Two years ago, she had stood here eavesdropping; trying to make sure Amon was all right, only to hear the order to end her life. She took a deep breath and entered the room.
Solomon looked up, and motioned for her to close the door behind her. She walked to a point near the desk, and looked at the founder of the Agency of Solomon, the creator of the STN-J, and the mastermind behind the Factory.
"You've lead us on a merry chase, little Robin." Solomon told her. "I assume you returned for a reason?"
"I have questions. Why kill me? Why rebuild the Factory?"
"What do you think this organization is for?"
"To hunt witches. To ensure that there is no danger from them."
"Precisely. You are a witch, Robin. You are a danger, as is the man who has protected you for the past year. The Factory is our means to that end."
"How? The Factory is evil! It should never have been rebuilt!"
"You have told me that you believe that the Factory is necessary."
"No!" Robin said, her voice rising in passion. "I believe that the witches are a danger, if they are untrained. The Factory is cruel. I was in there. I know what orbo does. I believe that the witches need to be put out of their misery, but those experiments were wrong. The most humane is orbo, and I cannot describe an agony worse than having it splashed on one's arm. Injecting it into the bloodstream is inhumane. How are the developers of the orbo any better than the witches who kill for pleasure? How can seeing how large of a dose a witch can take before they dry from the inside out in agony be anything but cruelty? I am trained. I am a witch, and so, I might remind you, is Amon, the most loyal member of this organization." She could feel her craft using, and brought it back to bay. 'No! I am in control!' She thought desperately.
"The traitor, yes."
"How can he be a traitor to you?"
To Robin's surprise, Solomon laughed. "Yes, Amon. Angelic Amon. The one who betrayed not only the organization, but also you my dear. He played Judas to you twice."
"That's impossible!" Robin gasped.
"No, it is quite possible, my dear. He betrayed us by not only refusing to kill a witch, but also by harboring you after that order was flaunted. As to you, girl, he not only gave us the proof that you destroyed Factory, but also gave to us the DNA pattern that we can trace to you, no matter where in the world you are. Little Robin, you are the perfect agent. You have always stayed true by the agency. The turncoat must die." Solomon held up a tiny switch. "Do you see this? A bio bomb is implanted not three millimeters from his heart. Give me the least provocation, and he dies."
Robin could feel her rage rising as she stared at the man who twiddled the switch between his hands. "You'd like to kill me, wouldn't you little Robin?" He asked. "And all for one who betrayed you. How long have you shared Amon's bed?"
The power behind her eyes, trapped in her skin was unbearable. Coldly, she drew Amon's orbo gun from her pocket and trained it on the man behind the desk. He gave a horrible chuckle.
"Do you really think you can pull that trigger before I can push the tiny button on this remote? Behave, or your lover dies, my dear."
Her craft was agony as it poured through her veins. It broke free of her bindings, as she shouted her rage aloud to the world. In one swift move, the gun was cocked and the trigger pulled. The gunshot rang throughout the building as her fire craft poured through her body, and out to some target she couldn't see. She walked across the room and addressed Solomon's corpse.
"Amon changed the spring yesterday. There is no weapon in the world faster than this orbo gun."
Solomon's aide crashed through the door, yelling,
"Sir! Sir! The Factory has just combusted! All personnel were burnt alive!"
He stopped, staring at the slim girl with the fear written across her face. She dropped the gun like a hot coal as Amon ran through the door. Robin covered her face with a convulsive sob. Amon rushed to catch her as she collapsed, overcome at having killed.
The other team members ran into the room, Dojima holding the kitten. They stopped dead at the sight of Amon gently rocking Robin, murmuring,
"You're safe. It's over. Everything will be all right. My Robin. My poor Little Bird."
The power behind her eyes, trapped in her skin was unbearable. It broke free of her bindings, as she shouted her rage aloud to the world...
The man before her went up in flame.
"Robin!" Amon's hand gripped her shoulder as she flailed upright in her bed. She looked up at the man, and tried to keep from clinging to him.
"I'm sorry," She said, realizing her screams must have brought him from the room across the hall.
"I was up anyway. It's five." He told her. "The same dream?"
She shook her head, and he looked at her a moment, then said in a surprisingly gentle voice,
"You are not a precognitive to my knowledge. I have tested you for all the crafts. Besides fire and witch-sensing, the only potential I have seen is that for mind speech, which you have not manifested."
She nodded, and his hand released her shoulder. "Meet me at the usual café tonight," He told her, and then went into the shower. She sighed. They had lived in London, Rome, Chicago, Versailles, Hong Kong, and now Paris in the past year, and she regretted the fact that both of them were usually too busy to have time for one another. Both worked, and then in the evening hunted separately. Paris was full of witches. The only time they saw one another was at night, when they met for a meal at the café down the street from their tiny apartment.
She closed her eyes, wishing for different circumstances. She remembered the first time she had tried a solo hunt. It had been the last time that he had shown any affection towards her, beside his usual camaraderie...
Robin could tell that Amon didn't want her to go alone, but both problems had to be taken care of. Silently he handed her a vial of orbo, which she accepted with a shudder. She hated the stuff, but knew he was only trying to protect her.
"He's three blocks from the cathedral," He told her. She nodded and ran off, before he could say anymore.
The witch was stronger than she had anticipated. She was weary, and couldn't summon the strength to use her craft, and flinched back, holding her orbo.
A well-placed attack shattered the vial, and the sticky green fluid splashed all over her body. She screamed in agony, fire racing through her body, destroying her from the inside. Vaguely, as she mercifully fainted, she heard Amon's voice in a full-throated roar of fury.
She revived in the Roman hospital a week and a half later. A haggard looking Amon swept her into his arms, murmuring in her native Italian,
"I thought you had died on me, Little Bird..."
She heard the bathroom door open, and went to use the shower. As a bare-chested, wet Amon passed her, he said in a low voice in Italian,
"I worry about you, Little Bird. I do care about you."
Robin slid wearily into the bench across from Amon, and smiled as she noticed his nostrils flare as he ensured that there was no more scent on her of orbo.
"I'm fine, Amon!" She assured him. He frowned slightly as he noticed her weariness and remembered the incident in question. She reached across the table and took his hand. Hesitantly, as if unsure of her reaction, as well as his own actions, he leaned across the table as if to kiss her.
Amon's communicator went off.
He muttered something uncomplimentary in Japanese, too low for her to catch, and answered it, releasing her hand.
"What is it, Michael?"
"It is you! You're alive! I thought the Boss Man upstairs was playing an April's Fool joke on me!"
"Get to the point."
"He said that he wanted you home right away." Michael looked confused. "His exact words were 'tell Amon his French vacation is over', whatever that means."
Amon didn't bother to reply. He shut off the communicator, and turned to Robin.
"I'll be back in a few days."
"I'm coming with you, Amon."
"No, Robin."
"We're a team. Fire creates a hot breeze, and air feeds a fire. Besides," She said, gently manipulating Amon. "The safest place for me is at your side."
"You're being sentimental, Robin. There is no place for sentimentality in the organization."
She looked at him in mute appeal. Finally, he sighed and led her back to the apartment. She handed him the orbo gun, as he caught Evening by the scruff of the neck and dropped her into Robin's pocket.
A slim figure slipped down the halls of the STN-J office as her masculine partner openly walked upstairs into the offices on the higher levels. She paused, breathing in the old scents, and typed in the old security password she had learned so well in her days as a member of the hunting team.
The door slipped open without the slightest resistance. Michael, without turning around, commented,
"We didn't expect you for several more hours, Amon my man."
"Amon is upstairs with the head of the organization, Michael. How have you been?"
The donut Michael held between his lips fell as his jaws snapped open in surprise. Before the treat he had been eating (or the box of donuts he knocked over in his haste) hit the floor, he had crossed the room and tackled Robin. Her breast pocket squeaked.
"Umm, Robin?" Dojima said, entering the room, hiding her delight behind her ditzy-ness. "Those are some weird implants. They squeaked."
Blushing, Robin pulled out an indignant kitten. Evening yowled at the sight of the two strangers, and Dojima squealed,
"Aw! She's so cute! Can I hold her?"
Sakaki and Karasuma had been ignoring the discussion, for some reason.
"It's a pleasure to see you after a two year separation as well, Dojima." Robin said in her normal polite tones. At that show of courtesy, Sakaki's Game Boy went over his shoulder, and Karasuma broke her spare scrying mirror (which she used in an attempt to see whether she could use some of the other culture's methods). Both tackled a bemused Robin, crying greetings.
"It really is you!" Sakaki said. "We thought you were another one of those imposters Dojima brings in to cheer us up when she thinks that we've been getting too gloomy. The fake Amon backfired. We nearly lynched the guy."
At that precise moment, Amon walked through the office door. "Robin, the boss wants to see you in his offices immediately. Alone."
As the others gasped in shock, Robin walked across the room to him. She handed him Evening, and he slipped his orbo gun into her pocket. She stepped around him into the elevator, and was gone.
Robin stood nervously outside the door that had shaped the past two years of her life. Two years ago, she had stood here eavesdropping; trying to make sure Amon was all right, only to hear the order to end her life. She took a deep breath and entered the room.
Solomon looked up, and motioned for her to close the door behind her. She walked to a point near the desk, and looked at the founder of the Agency of Solomon, the creator of the STN-J, and the mastermind behind the Factory.
"You've lead us on a merry chase, little Robin." Solomon told her. "I assume you returned for a reason?"
"I have questions. Why kill me? Why rebuild the Factory?"
"What do you think this organization is for?"
"To hunt witches. To ensure that there is no danger from them."
"Precisely. You are a witch, Robin. You are a danger, as is the man who has protected you for the past year. The Factory is our means to that end."
"How? The Factory is evil! It should never have been rebuilt!"
"You have told me that you believe that the Factory is necessary."
"No!" Robin said, her voice rising in passion. "I believe that the witches are a danger, if they are untrained. The Factory is cruel. I was in there. I know what orbo does. I believe that the witches need to be put out of their misery, but those experiments were wrong. The most humane is orbo, and I cannot describe an agony worse than having it splashed on one's arm. Injecting it into the bloodstream is inhumane. How are the developers of the orbo any better than the witches who kill for pleasure? How can seeing how large of a dose a witch can take before they dry from the inside out in agony be anything but cruelty? I am trained. I am a witch, and so, I might remind you, is Amon, the most loyal member of this organization." She could feel her craft using, and brought it back to bay. 'No! I am in control!' She thought desperately.
"The traitor, yes."
"How can he be a traitor to you?"
To Robin's surprise, Solomon laughed. "Yes, Amon. Angelic Amon. The one who betrayed not only the organization, but also you my dear. He played Judas to you twice."
"That's impossible!" Robin gasped.
"No, it is quite possible, my dear. He betrayed us by not only refusing to kill a witch, but also by harboring you after that order was flaunted. As to you, girl, he not only gave us the proof that you destroyed Factory, but also gave to us the DNA pattern that we can trace to you, no matter where in the world you are. Little Robin, you are the perfect agent. You have always stayed true by the agency. The turncoat must die." Solomon held up a tiny switch. "Do you see this? A bio bomb is implanted not three millimeters from his heart. Give me the least provocation, and he dies."
Robin could feel her rage rising as she stared at the man who twiddled the switch between his hands. "You'd like to kill me, wouldn't you little Robin?" He asked. "And all for one who betrayed you. How long have you shared Amon's bed?"
The power behind her eyes, trapped in her skin was unbearable. Coldly, she drew Amon's orbo gun from her pocket and trained it on the man behind the desk. He gave a horrible chuckle.
"Do you really think you can pull that trigger before I can push the tiny button on this remote? Behave, or your lover dies, my dear."
Her craft was agony as it poured through her veins. It broke free of her bindings, as she shouted her rage aloud to the world. In one swift move, the gun was cocked and the trigger pulled. The gunshot rang throughout the building as her fire craft poured through her body, and out to some target she couldn't see. She walked across the room and addressed Solomon's corpse.
"Amon changed the spring yesterday. There is no weapon in the world faster than this orbo gun."
Solomon's aide crashed through the door, yelling,
"Sir! Sir! The Factory has just combusted! All personnel were burnt alive!"
He stopped, staring at the slim girl with the fear written across her face. She dropped the gun like a hot coal as Amon ran through the door. Robin covered her face with a convulsive sob. Amon rushed to catch her as she collapsed, overcome at having killed.
The other team members ran into the room, Dojima holding the kitten. They stopped dead at the sight of Amon gently rocking Robin, murmuring,
"You're safe. It's over. Everything will be all right. My Robin. My poor Little Bird."