Bonus Selection

Whew. It feels good to finally finish Tattoo. I'm sure there are many errors, but this thing has been an albatross that I want nothing more than to get rid of it, warts and all. I probably pushed the M rating a bit. It's hard to remember what's allowed when one spends so much time writing lemons. I hope I have not offended anyone with anything (specifically Klaus or his assault on Robin). I also wish that not too many readers will think Klaus' attack on Robin is too farfetched. I had my doubts about keeping that section, but really, Tattoo was only intended to be a fluff piece and not something for me to take too seriously.

However, I am so upset right now. I had my uncensored version ready to upload to AFF, but discovered that I did not have it on the jump drive. So, you all will have to wait to read teh sex scene until I can get internet access again and upload the file.

Below is the original piece from which Tattoo originates. Due to time constraints and my attention currently consumed with an original piece, this still untitled fanfiction will not be completed. Given the collective reaction to Fallen, I will not explain the full plot, though I will state that no one is killed. In my opinion, this piece was far better written than Tattoo, which is why I never had a high opinion of the latter story. I'm sure you will recognize a few familiar elements between the two pieces.

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Give not thy strength unto woman, nor thy way to which destroyeth kings

Proverbs 31:3

She was just sitting there.

Sitting in what had already been decided was his bed in this rundown hotel. And she wasn't just sitting in his bed, absently fiddling her hair with one hand as her toes brushed each other lightly, she wore his shirt as well. It disturbed him; made him think uncomfortable thoughts that his sixteen-year-old charge would look so comfortable in his bed, wearing only his shirt. She absolutely had no business acting so relaxed with this situation at her age. He hated it actually - and yet he wanted nothing more than for her to stay there, knees drawn up to her chest, somehow miraculously keeping the areas which needed it covered, looking as though she belonged right where she was. As if she belonged to him. That was too boggling a thought for his already overloaded brain. These were times that he was sure God hated him and took great pleasure in taunting him by putting his innocent ward in these positions.

Completely oblivious to the thoughts running around her guardian's head, Robin stared blankly at the wall across from her. It was a look Amon had come to know well. Since they had left their old life as Hunters behind, there was little for them to actually do. More oft than not as the days progressed, Robin would stare vacantly at an object, her thoughts far away. Amon had asked her once what she thought about when she went into these trances, but she had taken his cautious tone for reproach and never completely answered him sufficiently. He opened his mouth, thinking how to broach the subject once more, but close it once he discovered he didn't know how.

It had been quiet for some time. They had even harbored an unspoken hope that Solomon had given up on them. Finally allowed them some peace once the organization realized the only thing they wanted was to survive. Once, Robin had dared to suggest that maybe Father Juliano had been successful in convincing the Solomon elders that they were dead or maybe just that they should be left in peace. For a time, even Amon had thought that seemed likely.

Until this afternoon.

It had begun as a feeling. Just a little twinge early in the morning that something was amiss. At noon, that inkling had grown and by the early afternoon had spiraled into full-scale paranoia. They didn't wait for anyone to make contact. They merely left behind everything but two small bags of essentials and got the hell out. There had been running and several trains until the two found themselves breathless and terrified in a completely different section of the country. That is how they ended up in their umpteenth hotel room with an embarrassing problem. Robin hadn't managed to grab herself much of any clothing before they had run. Exhausted from the day, Amon had little desire to find Robin something else, so he had offered one of the few items already packed in his bag. There would still be a problem with clothing in the morning, but Amon was more than willing to put that off for a bit.

What continued to plague and frighten Amon the most through this whole ordeal was the nagging question: what if there hadn't been anyone following them? What if the entire day was for naught, a schizophrenic reaction to the accumulated stress of continuing to look over their shoulders for the rest of their life? Amon didn't know how much longer he could continue living under these conditions. He was stressed and he knew that Robin had also grown weary under the strain. What Amon felt he needed most was some time alone to figure out what they were supposed to do and secure them a path. Several times he had "suggested" to Robin that it would be best to stay in a local convent he had located so that he could track down some place that would be safer, but she (of course) always refused. She didn't want to go back to the restrictive atmosphere of a convent and Amon understood why she wouldn't be willing to return to such a place. However, he suspected that most of the reason lay in her desire to stay at his side no matter the circumstance. To make matters worse, Amon had come to the realization that he didn't want Robin to be away from him either. Even with how much living together bothered him, made him conscious of things he didn't want to think, he received a grudging joy from her constant proximity.

Robin's eyes suddenly cleared and she turned her head to the side, questioning him silently with a look. Amon covered his startled thoughts, thinking quickly of something to say lest she discover he had been thinking of her inappropriately. As if she ever would. To Robin's perspective, she was merely a burden to her guardian; a constant reminder that she had changed his life forever.

"Are you tired yet?" Amon asked, struggling to bring his mind to the present and desperately wishing Robin would stop giving him that plaintive look.

She inclined her head to the side slightly, her fingers stilling on her hair as the rest of it swung gently to the side. Her eyes moved up and over to the right as she thought.

"Yes," she answered slowly. "I guess it would be best if I went to bed now." Her gaze lowered to the bed. "It was a long day," she added as an afterthought.

He didn't answer, merely stared at her in his overly stern manner, waiting patiently until she had moved off his bed and into her own. If there was one thing Amon was careful about with their living arrangement, it was to make sure that they were never in one bed at the same time. It was a blatant overreaction, but it felt as though merely sitting together would be the proof that there was something between them. Something which needed to remain silent and unacknowledged. Guilty conscience, his mind taunted. Amon sat down heavily onto the edge of the mattress with his back to Robin, the imprint of where she had sat still visible to his right. He willed his mind to think of other things - anything - and not how warm that spot would still feel to the palm of his hand. Pressing his mouth into a thin line, Amon clenched his hands together and willed himself not to grimace.

"A-Amon?"

Robin's hesitant, small voice brought him out of his reverie. Turning slightly, he looked at her over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

She looked back, her wide green eyes showing a mixture of concern and confusion. "Are you alright?" she asked softly.

Amon didn't drop his eyes, managing to keep her locked just with his gaze. "Yes. You were right, this was a long day."

Then Robin did what always made his stomach clench and heart feel things it had no business feeling for one so young. She smiled. But it wasn't any smile; it was the genuine, loving smile that Amon knew she reserved for him alone.

"Good night," she bid before slinking down in the covers and rolling away from him. Amon stared after her a moment, then reached into his bag to pull out the sleeping gear he always kept. He had taken a few steps towards the bathroom before he hesitated, half-turning.

"Good night," he returned. Robin startled at his voice, her head beginning to move in his direction, then stopped and rested back upon her pillow.

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The next morning, Amon awoke early, the familiar sensation of a fuzzy head from the severe lack of sleep greeting him as he grabbed for the clock. He wanted nothing more than to flop back into the bed and curl up for more sleep, but there was the problem still of Robin's clothing. Fighting back sleep, Amon headed to the crummy bathroom for a quick shower then silently slipped out of the room after scrawling a quick note. He left it on the side table in case she happened to awake; though that was highly unlikely given that Robin rarely awoke earlier than 10 on her own. How the girl could sleep so soundly and for so long never ceased to amaze Amon.

Quickly, Amon headed towards a high-end section of town, scanning the storefronts for something that looked "Robin." Settling on one boutique in particular, he purposefully strode through the door, the scent of a floral fragrance greeting him as he entered. Amon stopped a few paces into the store, glancing about blankly. He had idea where to begin. However, one of the store associates greeted him cheerfully.

"Good morning, sir, I'm Hinata, how may I help you today?" the young woman asked, appearing as by merely helping Amon was her lucky day.

Amon ignored her interested look. "I need several outfits appropriate for a teenage girl."

"Your sister?" the woman inquired curiously, her perfectly defined brow arching as she spoke.

"No."

Seeing that Amon had no intention of telling her much of anything, she returned to the topic of Robin's clothing. "Did you have anything particular in mind?"

"She likes long skirts and long-sleeved shirts," Amon began slowly, "and dark colors."

"She sounds gloomy," Hinata quipped before she caught sight of Amon's darkening expression. "Do you know her size?" she asked quickly.

Amon hesitated. "No, but she's rather small."

"Small how?"

Amon's face blanked, realizing that maybe picking out Robin's clothes for her hadn't been such a great idea after all. Why exactly had he wanted to go out of his way for her anyway? As he struggled to recall what he had been thinking, the store associate had begun to speak again.

"I will gather the girl in the store and you can see if anyone here is similar." In a flash, the woman left and returned with a small army of associates all looking more than eager to help Amon. He glanced quickly over them and found one girl similar to Robin's build and height. Amon pointed at the girl.

"That's about right," he began. The girl shifted uncomfortably as Amon scrutinizing gaze ran down her figure. "Maybe a little thinner than this girl here."

"Very well," the attendant responded, pleased that one of the girls was correct. Men were the big spenders, after all. "Shall we show you what we have?"

Nearly forty-five minutes later, Amon left the store with an arsenal of new clothing, including some suitable nighttime attire. The only things he had decided against purchasing were shoes and undergarments. Robin was quite picky about shoes, Amon had discovered early into their time together and he could only hope that she had enough undergarments, seeing how he wouldn't touch that subject with a ten-foot pole. He gathered the shopping spree had something to do with the guilt he possessed from the sudden move the day before. Before Amon returned to the hotel room, he stopped by another store to pick up some more clothes for himself. Returning to the room, Amon found Robin predictably asleep. He stood by the side of her bed bewildered that she could sleep so, hands on his hips as he stared down on her. Breakfast, he thought suddenly. He should get them breakfast. That too could make up a little for the prior day. In a moment, the old note on the table beside the bed was crumpled and a new note lay in its place.

A half an hour later, Amon returned again to the hotel room, this time arms full of doughnuts and, of course, espresso and coffee. Robin always had to have both each morning - and she was quite the cranky girl if she didn't have her coffee. Actually, she was rather cranky if she didn't have some sort of pastry for breakfast either. Amon had made the mistake once of purchasing a traditional Japanese breakfast. Robin had stared at the pickles and rice in shock, as if to suggest only a sadist would force her to eat something so...savory.

Glancing towards the clock, Amon saw that the time was already after 11. More than enough sleep, he surmised, especially considering Robin had gone to sleep far earlier than usual the evening before.

There were some times that Amon thought waking Robin was the best part of his day. Even, gasp, better than watching her sleep. There was just something about seeing her eyes flutter open, then focus as she looked up into his face. Usually, Robin would smile serenely, happy to see the sight of her guardian above. Yes, it was the time of day he loved.

He moved to the side of her bed, watching her carefully, then bent forward. His hand firmly upon her shoulder covered by his shirt, he shook her gently. Instead of behaving how he had anticipated, Robin's face scrunched up and she jerked away grumpily. Rolling over to her stomach, she buried her face in the pillow.

"Robin," he called sternly, perplexed that she was acting thusly. "It's after 11. Time to wake up."

She rolled her head slightly to the side, exposing one eye from under her hair which glared angrily at the intrusion. "I was dreaming," Robin stated grumpily, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"It's after eleven," Amon repeated, quirking an eyebrow at her and folding his arms across his chest. He gave her his usual I'm-the-one-in-charge-here stern look. Robin buried her face into the pillow again. With a sigh, Amon retreated to the table holding the doughnuts and coffee. "I brought you some espresso," he taunted. Immediately, the eye appeared once more, casting a wary glance his way. "Would you like some?" Amon asked innocently.

Grudgingly, Robin sat upright in bed, rubbing at her eyes. "Yes," she replied slowly in an aggravated voice. She yawned and raised her arms above her head as she stretched. Amon quickly averted his eyes and focused intently on the paper coffee cup in his hand.

"I got you some clothes," Amon said suddenly. "To replace the ones that were left behind yesterday," he finished hurriedly.

Robin had stopped partway in her stretch, eyes glued to his back. "You did?" she asked in wonderment.

"Yes, in the bags beside your bed."

"Oh," she replied, a tinge of confusion in her voice. "All of these?"

"Yes."

"Oh," Robin repeated. "I'll get dressed then." Delicately, she hopped off the bed and knelt besides the bed, rummaging through the indicated items. Amon watched from the corner of his eye as Robin held up a skirt, studied it, then pulled out a different one. She paused then and Amon hurriedly returned his eyes to the box of doughnuts.

"Amon," she said curiously - innocently, "how did you know what sizes to get?"

He turned to face her fully, a chocolate glazed doughnut in his hand. "I didn't. There was a sales associate about your size. She picked out the appropriate sizes of the clothing for me."

She inclined her head to the side, then nodded her head once. Returning her attention to the bag, Robin pulled out a burgundy long-sleeved, lightweight sweater with decorative beading around the neck. She tossed the chosen items over her left arm and picked up her bag of personal items, then shuffled off to the bathroom.

Satisfied that he had done well with his choices, Amon took a bite from his doughnut and chased it down with a swig of coffee and a grimace.

He hated coffee.

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As fate would have it, Robin ended up in Amon's bed far sooner than he had anticipated, though far from under the more desirable circumstances he would have wanted. To give in to the nagging voice in Amon's head, he had forced them to move into another hotel. This particular hotel was even worse in stature than the previous. Robin had silently regarded the exterior with a frown, her displeasure obvious. Amon had ignored it, pushing her into the alley to the side.

"Will you be okay here?" He was greeted with a minute rolling of the eyes, as if to ask him if he was really that stupid to ask that sort of question after knowing her so long. But she merely returned a meek affirmative before he set about to acquire new lodging. The man behind the counter, overweight and a receding hairline - classic stereotype - didn't look up from his adult magazine.

"You want a room?" he asked of Amon.

"Yes."

"Single alright? That's all we got."

Amon glanced about the room then out the window at the rundown buildings across the street. Figuring he could do no better, he reached into his coat for his credit card.

"A single will be fine."

With a sigh - presumably because he had been unable to shy away a potential customer with his unhelpfulness, Amon surmised - the man snapped his magazine shut and approached the counter. With a solid thunk, he slapped the magazine upon the counter as he reached and grabbed the credit card processing machine. As they waited for the machine to process the transaction, the clerk picked up a carton of cigarettes and lit up.

"Want a magazine?" the man mumbled around his cigarette. Amon's eyes shifted to the cover, taking in the woman clad only in stiletto platform black shoes staring back.

"No," he replied with disdain.

"Suit yourself," the clerk replied as he laid the receipt before Amon and began to rummage around for a pen. "Be sure to not lose the key card. There's a processing fee for replacement."

Increasingly annoyed, Amon nodded his head once and shoved the key and credit card into his wallet. "Thanks," he managed to get out, before slamming back through the entrance.

Returning to the alleyway, Amon found Robin leaning against the wall with a bored expression. Immediately, she brightened as he approached. He ran a hand through his hair as collected his thoughts. Robin waited patiently, an expectant look upon her face.

"It's not the best hotel," he said eventually. Amon nearly smacked himself for stating the obvious, but Robin merely nodded her head with a thoughtful expression.

"Will we be staying here long?"

"I hope not," Amon grumbled and averted his eyes.

"I see," Robin replied, quietly studying her guardian. "It's that bad?"

Amon's eyes slid to meet hers. "Yes."

"I'm sure it will be fine for the night," Robin said quickly.

Merely nodding back, Amon turned to lead the way back to the hotel. Once inside, he quickly ushered Robin up the stairs. Their room was located on the seventh floor. Amon reached down and grasped his young charge about her wrist as they hurried past the leering men huddled around the entrances to each floor. His guard was up; his worry increased as he studied his surroundings. This was no place to take someone like Robin. He only hoped that they could get through the night safely and leave this desolate place behind. As far as Amon could see, there was not a single woman in sight. Whether this indicated that there weren't any women actually lodging at this particular location or that they were merely hiding from sight, Amon could not deduce. Regardless, he wanted nothing more than to hurry to their room and tuck Robin away from prying eyes. Trailing slightly behind, he could feel the anxiety of their situation pouring from Robin in waves. Though she strove to hide it, she was quite worried. Amon knew her too well. He paused slightly, waiting as she realized he had stop and lifted her head. Their eyes met, his quietly reassuring her with a meaningful look. She saw and understood and they continued ever upwards.

Both of the wearied travelers were breathless by the time they reached the seventh floor. Ignoring the beleaguered expressions of the men lounging beside the door of the landing, Amon quickly brushed past and into the hallway. Behind him, Amon could hear the quick intake of air as Robin was greeted by the site of an overcrowded floor. There were men everywhere, some speaking roughly and loudly to others, while some were content to sip their liquor and smoke their cigarettes. As they passed through, Amon located the washroom for the floor. He assumed that this indicated that the restroom/bath area was communal. Upon finally locating their room and taking a cursory glance about, Amon realized he was right. With a sigh, he tossed the bags carried to the ground beside the door.

His gaze turned to Robin. He grimaced. She looked in shock, standing in the center of the room with arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes darted around the room, finding a small, dirty window on the far side with a small sink sitting to the side.

"There's no bathroom," she said blankly.

"Yes. There's a communal facility down the hall."

"I saw."

Amon didn't move from his spot, staring at Robin, unsure of what to say to remedy the situation. He had the feeling that his gift of breakfast and new clothing were not enough to make up for their present circumstances. At least Amon was fairly sure that they would not be found by Solomon. His thoughts were distracted by the sound of Robin's small voice.

"I need to use the restroom."

Nodding, Amon's hand subconsciously reached into his coat to check for his weapon, before returning to his side.

"I'll take you."

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section missing

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Too much time had ticked away as Amon sat up in bed pondering the situation which befell them. Occasionally, his thoughts (and eyes) would shift to the girl whom lay in the bed besides his, contentedly slumbering the night away. He was coming up blank. He had absolutely no idea of how to proceed. They found themselves in a very bad place in deed. Oddly, money for once proved no concern. The problem stemmed from the few places he could safely use his various cards under a variety of identities. Sooner or later, Solomon, or maybe just some ordinary identity thief, would catch on to the pattern. That's easily could have been how they had been (maybe) discovered the day before.

They needed some place permanent. Some place where they could rest themselves, recuperate and possibly take roots and flourish. He needed to have access to all of his contacts and tracking alone would be the most easy way of accomplishing this goal. Besides, Robin's very survival was paramount - even beyond his own. He needed to take her to some isolated locale, tuck her away from prodding eyes until he could come back for her. Trouble was, Amon had broached the subject several times in the past and once even gone so far to locate a suitable place to house her. No sooner had he left her at a (non Solomon-controlled) convent, did he find himself pursued by Solomon...and a certain puritanical-looking young fire witch.

So, he had given up on that idea. At least until he found himself now, trying to find a way to make sure there would be more nights in the future. Even if Amon happened to spend those nights watching over Robin worrying instead of sleeping like he should.

Robin shifted in bed with a small sound like a whimper, drawing Amon's thoughts once more towards his young charge. One thing about living with Robin had completely taken him by surprise. Robin snored. It wasn't an obnoxious, loud sound. Quite the opposite, actually. Still, somewhere in the back of Amon's mind, he never expected the genetically-engineered, perfect "Eve of Witches" to be reduced to something so mundane as snoring. He secretly found the situation rather endearing. He sometimes wondered if she was even aware that she did so. In any case, he figured it was best not to mention the subject to her face, to avoid any potential embarrassment.

Sighing, Amon fell back onto his pillow with a thud. He didn't see any other way around it. He needed to find someplace to put her while he scouted out a better life for them. Anywhere, it didn't matter where the magical place was located at this point. Just as long as they were safe. He would try to find some convent or someplace...

It's always a convent, the voice taunted him. Yes, he never thought of any other place for Robin. Just what he needed to find, his innocent young ward seduced by some half-wit boy her age while he was away. So, into a convent she would go.

Since when is Robin so innocent? the voice piped up again. She's killed her fair number of people, not to mention her obvious...interest...in you. Robin may be young, but she is far from a typical sixteen year-old girl.

Amon's mind paused temporarily. She had been legal for quite some time and not a day went by did Amon not think about this fact, a tidbit constantly nagging on his mind and/or conscious. In fact, Robin would be seventeen in a few months time. Would that be the magic number in which he would finally drop his guard and allow her fully into his world? Well, as fully as Amon ever let anyone beyond the gates of his personal space. There was always that room in his castle that would remain unopened forever to outsiders, its lock rusted and impenetrable to the one holding the correct key.

Seventeen seemed so much older and more mature an age to him, for some indefinable reason. It was something about the solid, straight line of a seven that set it apart from the sloppy curves of a six. Then again, that same number inched him closer to the comparable thirty. Suddenly, Amon's mind had made the leap that he was a thirty year-old man interested in a seventeen year-old girl. His mouth turned downward as he shifted positions uncomfortably.

But, Robin was no girl; she had already quite blossomed into a woman, both physically and emotionally. This was evinced by how easily and comfortably she had worn his shirt and sat within his bed without a moment's thought. There had been no uncertainty as she stared off into space thinking God knew what. No, Amon couldn't deny her maturation...or the unbelievable way his own feelings had increased after she had become so enmeshed within his life. He wasn't surprised that Robin didn't want to leave his side. Not only did she love him, but she was now a part of him. Somehow, probably subconsciously, Robin had picked up on this. They were becoming one as time progressed, despite his hesitation and all of the walls. And that was exactly why he couldn't bring Robin along with him as he went off searching for however long it needed to take. She was always at the front of his thoughts, clouding out whatever issue needed to be there. Amon also had to do this while he still had the will; before, he was completely unable to separate himself from her. Even if he detested the idea of leaving her somewhere to wait helplessly while he went out gallantly finding a haven for his little Eve. God, that sounded so sexist to his own ears. He wasn't even the strong one in the relationship. Not by a long shot.

Shifting again, Amon realized it was pointless trying to fall asleep with such thoughts chasing around in his head. He decided, while staring up at the faintly visible bumps on the hotel's ceiling, that he would be best served by calling his brother. After a momentary debate as to if Nagira would be incensed at being awoken by his uncouth younger sibling, Amon figured it was worth the risk and quietly slunk out of bed to make the call.

Robin slept on, oblivious to her warden's internal debate, the sounds of her dainty snoring barely audible, but nevertheless still there.

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section missing

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Another day, another hotel. This lodging, however, was of much higher quality than the previous room in which they had rented over several nights. It also had two separate bedrooms, a feature which made Amon more than happy. Even Robin seemed relieved with the situation, which made him suspect that she craved time to herself every once in a while herself.

He entered Robin's open door, to find her on top of an ottoman, straining to reach the items resting in her bag atop the armoire. He leaned against the doorway with arms folded across his chest, not bothering to hide his amusement at her struggle. She was far too engrossed in her futile activities to notice that he had entered her room.

"What are you doing?" Amon asked in his most condescending tone. Robin immediately froze, arms stretched overhead, her fingers still twitching in frustration. Hesitantly, she cast a sheepish look over shoulder.

"I'm trying to get a book down from my bag," she explained, not lowering her arms.

Amon left his place by the door, arms still folded and approached the armoire with the pesky contents. Robin returned her attention to the bag.

'Why don't you simply take everything down and find what you're looking for that way?"

Robin hardly paused to look at Amon. "Because then I'll have to get the bag back up on top and it's just easier this way."

Women, the thought passed through his mind behind he had time to adequately comprehend it. Amon began to reach a hand towards the bag, only to have his hand swatted away by Robin.

"No, I can do it myself," she said, the annoyance and frustration plain in her voice.

Amon had opened his mouth to counter just as Robin lost her footing, pulling a few undesired books within her fingers as she stumbled. Instinctively, he reached for her. There was little need for such concern, however, as Robin crashed directly into his chest, turning towards him as she fell. The two tumbled to the floor with a sound thud and a loud "oof" from Amon. Stunned, they lay together a moment regaining their breath before Robin lifted her head from his chest. There was mostly abashment in her expression, Amon noticed, but also a healthy dose of embarrassment.

"I-I'm -" Robin had barely begun her apology before Amon had clapped his hand over her mouth. Her eyes shimmered in surprise above his hand in response. Robin apologized far too often for his liking and he just didn't want to hear it at this particular moment. She tried to shake her head in an effort to loosen his grip, but his attention was redirected to the item atop the armoire that was the cause of all that had happened. In a flash, Robin was rolled to her back and pinned to the ground between Amon's arms. He shielded the top of her head with one arm, pushing his face into her hair and feeling her harsh intake of breath beside his ear as the bag fell onto his back. Amon lifted his body with a wince to level a glare at the vile object lying innocently on the floor, its contents messily spilling across the floor.

His attention returned to Robin, staring up at him in utter surprise, her hands remaining gripped tightly upon his shirt. He stared back unflinchingly, acutely aware of his body resting against her small one and the vulnerable expression she wore. Amon remained, not wanting to leave her warmth yet still unable to progress further.

"Are you aware that you snore?" he asked eventually, smugly, hating himself for intentionally making Robin uncomfortable. Immediately, her face flushed a deeper shade of pink at his words.

"I-I do?" she replied, caught off-guard by the direction of the question.

"You do," Amon affirmed, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke. Deep inside, a voice screamed at him to stop, get away. If not... "But, I never realized how clumsy you are."

On cue, Robin's face darkened, her mouth beginning to turn downward.

"Frowning is not an attractive expression on you," he commented. Robin's frown stopped halfway, her eyes widening. Unable to hide his amusement any longer, a small, knowing smile crept over his face. Her expression changed immediately to anger and the frown completed. Giving a shove to the direct center of his chest, Robin pushed Amon aside and began furiously rummaging through the bag on the floor. Still not finding what she was looking for, turned her eyes up the top of the armoire once more, pointedly ignoring Amon. He watched her from where he remained on the floor as she scrambled back onto the ottoman and swept her hand around.

Nearly rolling his eyes, Amon slowly rose and walked behind Robin. Seeing that the irate girl intended to keep ignoring him, he sighed and reached up to the armoire, rummaging around until he had recovered the item Robin sought. Angrily, she attempted to swipe the book from his hand, but Amon didn't intend for her to get away with such petulant behavior that easily. Just as she about had it, he raised it just out of reach. Absolutely incensed, Robin turned to glare at him, mouth turning white as she pressed her lips together hard. Hand trembling, she extended her fingers palm up to wait for the book. No longer bothering with pretense, he stared back into her eyes, completely amused and placed the book onto her palm. She gave an exasperated noise and bounded off of the ottoman and headed towards the couch in the main room.

"I could have gotten it myself," she tossed haughtily over her shoulder as she flopped onto the couch.

Watching her, Amon wanted to laugh outright at her. So, maybe she did act her age every now and again. He moved into the other room and leaned against the wall, watching Robin struggle to read the book she had spent so much time trying to get.

An idea popped into Amon's head. It was a bad idea - a dangerous idea, in fact - yet he couldn't stop himself. Silently, he crept up behind the couch, then sprang forward, his fingers slipping along her body as he began to tickle her ribs. He nearly received a chin full of head she started, a yelp escaping her in surprise. In vain, she struggled to get away, crying his name, voice pleading. Amon was larger and stronger and Robin was at a severe disadvantage in this game. At length, she managed to twist out of his grasp and took off towards the nearest room - his room - but he caught the girl around her waist before she reached the doorway, yanking her backwards and into his body.

"Do you...d-do you want me to...burn...you?" Robin managed to gasp between squeals of laughter.

Amon, holding her hips within his hands roughly pinned her back against his chest, bent down to whisper lowly in her ear.

"Don't make threats you don't intend to keep, Robin," he whispered conspiratorially. He could see her face change, at once utterly confused and shocked as the relaxed atmosphere shattered in an instant. She turned to stone within his arms, hands hesitating upon his and face half-turned in his direction. Feeling both of their pulses racing from the exertions and tension, Amon's attention was called to his beckoning bed before them.

Not good, the voice screamed in Amon's head.

A sound emanated from his pocket alerting him to a call. Amon could have gotten on his knees and thanked God as he gently pushed Robin away and reached to retrieve the item.

"It's from Nagira," he commented absently with a frown.

She didn't reply as he took the call, pushing back the hair from her face. Robin stood to the side at a distance and he could feel her watching him carefully with large eyes.

---------

...And that's as far as I got. The rest will probably remain in my head. Since this unfinished fanfiction was to be a full-length piece, I realized I wouldn't be able to finish it at this time. It was then that I began to work on a shorter and lighter fluff piece with similar elements about Robin wanting a tattoo. Thus, Tattoo was born. I hope you have enjoyed seeing this unfinished piece and have gotten a glimpse of some of the other, more serious work I do. I was generally unhappy with the subject matter for Tattoo and wanted to share this one to sort of "redeem" myself.

Thanks to everyone for the support.