This may just be too cute for this fandom. I don't think I've got the characterizations right either. Still, something about it works at 3:30 in the morning, so I'm going to post it.
"Mew?"
Robin's eyes snapped open in surprise at the sound. She froze, waiting for it again, not sure what exactly it had been.
"Mew?"
She heard Amon rise from across the room, slowly, being as careful as she felt. She still did not move. Suddenly, there was a click at the window, and it creaked open. She turned over on the bed, dropping to the floor in one movement, glasses grabbed from the chair that she kept beside her sleeping spot. Her speed was nothing compared to Amon's though, who had already strode across the room, drawn his gun and pointed it unflinchingly at the window.
After a moment of no movement, Robin chanced to peer above the bed, her eyes widening at the sight that met her eyes.
There was a cat in the windowsill, rubbing it's chin against the barrel of Amon's gun, looking quite smug, and all together unaware that it had been in immense danger of being blown away by either she or her warden. Amon looked vaguely perplexed, an emotion that Robin very rarely saw on him. She couldn't help it, and quietly began to giggle. The situation was not helped when the cat jumped down and began to rub up against Amon's shins. In relief and amusement, Robin set her elbows on the still-warm bed, and set her head on her arms to see what Amon would do now.
For a moment, he did nothing but watch the cat without expression, and then, to her complete surprise, reached down and scooped the mewling bundle of fur into his arms. She thought she saw a ghost of a smile on his lips as he scratched the cat behind the ears. Rising from the floor back to her bed, she crawled on and again placed her chin in her hands, feeling a smile tugging on her lips as the cat stretched it's neck out, begging to be scratched.
"You've made a friend." She said quietly.
He turned and regarded her, the cat still in his arms. Robin couldn't help but smile lopsidedly. "Yes, I seem to have." He replied. "We must be paranoid." He said with thinly veiled sarcasm, almost smirking at the little cat.
Robin nodded half heartedly. "I suppose there's a good reason for it, though."
He nodded, face solemn as usual again. Robin watched him absently pet the cat, who seemed as if it had found the seventh level of heaven for the moment. "I never really figured you as a cat person."
"Why do you say that?" Amon asked, she could have sworn there was a note of surprise in his voice.
"I'm not sure. I never spent much time around animals…" Robin said as the cat leaped from Amon's arms to the bed, daintily sniffing the air and making it's way to Robin.
"No time like the present, I suppose." Amon said dryly, and turned. Robin eyed the cat.
"Amon…"
He turned, regarding her with a slightly cocked eyebrow, as if to ask what in the world she could possibly want.
"Um…" she backed away from the little creature, and Amon had to fight down a smile. "Could you…take him…her…with you?"
"What ever for?" He asked. "It won't hurt you."
"Well, I'm kind of…allergic." Robin said, as if admitting that she was allergic to cats was admitting that she had snuck wine at dinner.
There was half a moment of silence before Amon began to chuckle. "Well then, isn't that ironic?" he said, still chortling.
Robin had backed up to the wall by now, trying to keep the cat at arms length while still not touching it. The cat was not to be deterred, and was in mid-leap over her pillow before Amon caught it and brought it to his chest again. She looked up at him in relief and relaxed against the wall again. "What's so funny about it? When I was at the convent, I pet a cat and had hives for a week. A month later, the same cat scratched me, and the scratch was there much longer than it had any right to be." She looked down sourly, as if remembering the scratch in greater detail.
Amon chuckled again. "I just find it interesting that you, of all people, is allergic to cats, when you can light a candle without a blink."
Robin smiled, seeing the irony. "I can see how it might amuse you. But if you had been the one with those hives, or those twice-dratted scratches itching at you for two and a half weeks, it wouldn't be half so funny."
"Then why, exactly, are you smiling?" Amon asked, putting the cat down in the window sill and giving it a last pet before stepping away.
Still smiling, Robin lay back. "I suppose I'm just so happy to be smiling for once that I don't care."
Aw. I suppose it ain't so bad. I'm not allergic to cat's myself, but I know several people that are. My own cat is currently keeping my lap warm for me. Please review!