Work Text:
Amy hated the cold. She hated the way it wriggled its way into even the cosiest of her winter jackets, hated the way it wracked her body with shivers and made her teeth clack as they chattered. She hated the way it made people crowd in to her favourite cafe like so many sardines, forming a wall of flesh and thick woollen coats so cruelly effective at keeping her from her sanctuary.
Most of all, though, she hated the way it reminded her she had no one to curl up in front of the fire with.
A bitter chill permeated the air of Station Square as winter took hold of the city. The first snow of the season was due any day now, heralded by air that nipped at her skin and rolling clouds which hung high above the skyscrapers. Amy pulled her coat tighter as a shiver ran up her spine. She was glad to have gotten a head start on holiday shopping this year; all she needed were a couple more gifts and she could retreat back into the warmth of her apartment and settle down with a hot cocoa. When the snow finally arrived, it wouldn’t be so bad. Snow, she liked, but cold without it had no upsides.
Speaking of, she needed to pick up a pair of snowshoes for Tails. Apparently, he needed them, though Amy questioned the necessity of such a thing when he could simply use his tails to soar above the snowdrifts. His puppy-dog eyes had been a force to be reckoned with, though, so she reluctantly agreed that she’d keep an eye out whilst Christmas shopping. Stopping just outside a sports supply store (these places sold things like that, right?) Amy studied the window display, which now featured a variety of winter-sports related goods. She balked at the prices, and wondered if perhaps tail-warmers would be a better investment.
She didn’t get long to deliberate, as it was then Amy spotted the reflection of something huge in the window, and she barely got the chance to discern its shape before she was blinded by an impossibly bright light. The wind picked up, and the entire street was shaken by a sudden quake and the deafening sound of heavy metal landing heavy on concrete. Blinking rapidly, Amy whipped around, vision clearing to reveal a massive badnik bearing down on her.
Eggman. Of course. That creep really didn’t have anything better to do than harass pedestrians and holiday shoppers?
The sudden intrusion had come as a shock, but even more unexpected still had been the appearance of the thing; all painted in green, red and white, with a stiff metallic beard. Not only had Robotnik decided to ruin her day, he’d went to the effort of building a Christmas-themed monstrosity to do it. His aesthetic flair wasn’t impressing her much, in fact it sort of irritated her to look at the jolly gilded patterns that ran in parallel lines across its body.
The distinct sound of a crackling radio rang out from somewhere inside the thing’s head, though the piercing beams of light which shone from its eye made it hard to see its face in full. Eggman’s voice, boisterous as ever, boomed through a speaker.
“You and your precious pack of rats have been awfully naughty this year, Amy Rose!” he shouted with dastardly glee which only thinly concealed the venom in his tone.
“That’s rich, coming from you, Eggman!” she shouted over the chaos, refusing to budge even as people ran this way and that, a few of which bumped and jostled her as they fled.
She wasn’t sure if he had even heard her, because he just continued monologuing. Something about taking her hostage and using her as bait, or failing that, simply striking her down here himself so that he might have one less thorn in his side on his journey to world domination.
He was just asking for a hammer to the face, though she was pretty sure by now this particular mech was remote-controlled. It almost felt like an insult that he hadn’t even bothered to show up in the flesh. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned her weapon. If he was so intent on looking down on her, on picking this fight, Amy was more than happy to oblige.
And oblige she would have, if not for the fact her thunder was immediately and spectacularly stolen by a burning streak of red crashing right in to the thing’s eye. Shattered glass rained down onto the street amongst fleeing townsfolk; shimmering as they bled together with twinkling holiday lights. Amy couldn’t help but notice how pretty the sight was, even as the screams of the people around her set her ears flattening against her head and had her heart squeezing in sympathy.
How awful that the holiday atmosphere had to be totally ruined by that brute! Amy resolved to make sure that was as far as things would go. Tightening her grip on her hammer, she took swift advantage of the opening granted to her and made a beeline for the mech’s leg. If she could get at least one good hit in, the whole thing may just come down before anyone got seriously hurt.
As soon as she was within distance, Amy reeled back, planted her feet and prepared to swing, only for Eggman’s manic voice to cut through the noise once more.
“You’ll regret that!”
She honestly wasn’t sure who he thought he was addressing, seeing as she hadn’t dealt a single blow yet, but she didn’t get much time to dwell on it. A horribly loud hissing sound came from behind the giant, followed by the all-too familiar sound of launching weaponry. Missiles. Two… no, four, came surging out of silos built in to the automaton’s back in seemingly random directions, arcing across the starlit sky leaving trails of white smoke in their wake.
Two crashed immediately into nearby skyscrapers. One exploded in mid-air. The last…
Was headed straight for her.
It was fast, faster than she could run. The only choice left for her was to ready her swing and hope she could send it flying far enough, fast enough, that she wouldn’t be caught in the ensuing blast. She planted her feet, grit her teeth, took a steadying breath. A flash of light, a dark shape, and the ring of metal on metal were all that she could process before the missile went careening through the air, crashing uselessly into the store front.
Eggman’s disappointed voice came through the speakers.
“A dud?! You got lucky this time!”
Amy whipped around, and barely got to take a step towards the metal monstrosity before another flash of light drew her eye. For the first time she got a clear look at her elusive ally. Shadow, now in midair, surged towards the mech, poised and ready to deliver a devastating blow. Even from her place on the ground Amy could see his usual grim determination on his face, though his full expression was obscured by the scarf he wore around his neck; deep red, perfectly complimenting his natural colouration. A brown trench coat hung loosely from his shoulders, billowing in the wind like a paladin’s cape; it was almost as if the universe itself had conspired to frame him so perfectly in her view. Against her will, her mouth fell open. Only one word came to her mind to describe the way he looked to her in that moment.
Dashing.
She only got to appreciate the sight for a brief moment before his fist made contact, sending the hulking mass of metal crashing to the pavement with inhuman force and creating deep, spiderwebbed fissures in the concrete beneath it. There was an electrical pop, accompanied by sparks and followed by the dying whirr of the engine. In the wake of the chaos, the silence almost felt suffocating. Shielding her nose and mouth with her scarf, Amy watched as the dust cleared, diffused light giving way to impossible brightness, like a fog lifting in the wake of the morning sun.
And there stood Shadow, perched atop the rubble, dark figure cutting a sharp contrast against the massive headlight; a perfect silhouette against a false moon. Amy took a step forward, and his sharp gaze immediately turned on her. She met it head on. Took a moment to savour the stillness in the wake of the storm. His neck was bare now, she noticed as her eyes roved over his form (his scarf must have come loose itself as he dealt the final blow). Why she felt the need to look him over, she didn’t know... Eggman’s festive monstrosity had probably been nothing more than small fry to him.
His expression shifted. She saw well enough to notice the change, but between the distance and the harsh light framing his form and drowning his face in shadow, she couldn’t decipher its meaning. Amy turned away. To survey the area, of course. It had absolutely nothing to do with Shadow’s all-consuming gaze bearing down on her from his perch on-high. She figured she should show her gratitude to him by bringing his scarf back to him, that’s all. Stepping carefully around the rubble, her keen eye soon caught a pool of deep red near their vanquished foe’s mangled leg. She jogged over and picked it up, shaking it out and wrinkling her nose at the small cloud of dust it created. Farther down the road, a to-go cup lay with its contents rapidly cooling on the icy pavement. Amy noted, idly, that the shoe store behind it was mercifully undamaged, despite the flickering of the street lamp and eerie silence making the scene look straight of a horror movie. Amy turned, and, scarf in hand, headed back towards Shadow. Her pace was unhurried, and despite the pang of sympathy she felt for those who had to clean up this mess, she consoled herself with the knowledge that no one had gotten hurt.
All thanks to him. Not that she would have let that happen if he hadn’t shown up. Not on her life.
Shadow’s eyes were trained on her as she approached, and Amy noted the subtle tilt of his head as she clambered up the rubble pile. His jacket was firmly back in place; flawlessly smoothed out, nary a piece of debris to be seen. She’d hardly believe he had just taken out a 3 storey high mech if she hadn’t just witnessed it for herself.
“Amy,” he said by way of greeting.
So terse, this one.
Regardless, she shot him an easy smile.
“Thanks for the save.”
He hummed an acknowledgement. Shadow never had been great at accepting thanks, but least he didn’t outright reject it. There was no dismissive grunt, no gravelly ‘I didn’t do it for you’, and that would have to suffice.
“Didn’t take you for the fashionable type,” she said, openly appraising his appearance. “It suits you!”
A puff of air escaped through his nose as he crossed his arms, and she could tell how badly he wanted to deny it. Of course, he was also smart enough not to argue. His attire wasn’t entirely practical, because she had seen him go without in much colder weather. What other reason could there be for him to wear these things if not that he simply liked the way they looked?
“The ensemble’s not complete without this though, right?” She motioned towards him with the scarf.
His hand twitched, but before he could reach out to take it from her, she moved in close and looped it around his neck. She wasn’t sure herself why she’d done it, it just felt like the right thing to do after what he’d done for her. Shadow’s eyes widened, just enough for her to notice it, and he stared at her hands as she tied a loose knot.
“Thank you,” she said again, because she really did mean it. His gaze returned to her face, searching, and she felt the sudden need to explain herself. “I’m glad you showed up when you did. I was a kind of distracted… it’s a little embarrassing.”
More than a little, in fact. Amy had taken great pains to prove herself as capable and strong, and here she had to be rescued because she was too busy worrying over holiday shopping.
He must think I’m so frivolous…
Shadow, to her great surprise, did not chastise her. Briefly, his gaze flit over to a store front on the other side of the street. Following it as best she could, Amy just barely caught a flash of something bright blue and illuminated in a window display before he spoke, recapturing her attention.
“I must admit that I… also had a lapse in focus.”
His voice was quiet, wistful. His eyes, once so sharp, had dulled somewhat as he looked past her, unfocused. His breath, steady as ever, comes out in small clouds of vapour. Amy watched it rise, watched it dissipate into the freezing night air above them. Only then did she notice the jagged piece of metal jutting out from the inert robot beside them.
Amy’s eyes widened. It was piece of rebar, maybe…? Something similar, at least. If Tails were there, he might have been able to tell her exactly what it was and what function it served. Before it had been forced through the exterior chassis by one broody hedgehog, that is. The metal itself wasn’t what had her attention, though. No, her focus was on the thing that was hanging from it. Long, rounded leaves, white berries, tied up neatly with a cute little red bow.
She felt Shadow shift, and was hit with the sudden realisation that her hands were still loosely gripping his scarf. They had never left it. He followed her line of sight, and then he, too noticed the mistletoe hanging inexplicably above their heads. His brow quirked up and his frown deepened, the confusion written across his face could only be described as adorable; he seemed to be just as perplexed as she was. For good reason, too. It was a hilariously unlikely coincidence; if she didn’t know any better Amy might have thought someone conspired to make this happen.
He met Amy’s eye once more, and the two experienced a brief moment of shared confusion. A feeling which was immediately dwarfed by a sudden warmth that threatened to overtake her body. He was so close. Her hands were still there in his scarf, fingers brushing the plush fabric.
She didn’t know why, she really, honestly didn’t, but Amy sort of wanted to kiss him.
So she did.
It was laughably easy, too. All she had to do was close her fists and pull, and his face moved towards her without resistance. She pressed her lips to his, feather-light, and he let her do it. Like he had let her throw her arms around him on the first day they met. Like he let her drag him to a concert he undoubtedly hated. Like he let her approach him even in the deepest chasm of his grief and anger, all those years ago. And how infuriating it was, she thought with her eyes screwed shut, that it was this simple, after years spent chasing and never catching up.
Pressing closer, and with her hands splayed on Shadow’s chest, Amy cursed the fabric that separated them. That prevented her from feeling his heartbeat under her palms. That kept her from knowing if it was rising in tandem with her own or beating steadily, indifferent to her touch. He was warm, impossibly so, and she wondered if he always ran this hot. She certainly didn’t, the heat creeping up her neck now was something else entirely. Especially in this bitter weather.
She drank in the warmth of his body for a moment more before, reluctantly, pulling away. Shadow, whose eyes had seemingly slipped shut some time after her own, blinked down at her. His expression was inscrutable, a sight she had never seen before; eyes half lidded and mouth turned down in a small frown; subtle, and lacking the severity of his typical scowl.
Sweet as it had been, the heat in the small space between them was now becoming stifling. Or maybe that was all in her head, a signal from her hindbrain telling her that it would be dangerous to linger here any longer lest she follow the new strange desires she felt bubbling up inside. Amy took a step back, and Shadow’s eyes regained their former clarity.
“It’s tradition,” she deflected with a coy smile, nodding up at the mistletoe. And when the silence stretched between them for a moment too long, she added, “...And I wanted to show my gratitude.”
Finally, mercifully, Shadow broke eye contact, casting his gaze over the square and pulling his scarf over his muzzle with a quiet ‘hmph’. From underneath the thick layer of fabric, she heard him murmur.
“There was no need.”
“I know. I just wanted to.”
When he turned to her this time, his eyes were the same as usual. Vivid, penetrating. His mouth, however, was completely obscured, leaving Amy’s imagination to run wild guessing at what expression he could possibly be making. Part of her wondered whether he was concealing a blush under there. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. But, oh, how funny it would be if it were true.
Shadow reached into his quills, pulling out an emerald. Of course. He never stuck around for long when the job was done, and though the rational part of her knew it wasn’t personal, she couldn’t help the pang of disappointment she felt. It always did hurt when her friends (could she even call him a friend? She certainly hoped she could) left without so much as a goodbye.
To her surprise, Shadow stilled, regarded her for a long moment. She never could tell what exactly he was thinking beneath that scrutinising gaze, but he was clearly expecting something from her. All she could think to offer him was a smile and a small wave.
“Merry Christmas, Shadow.”
He nodded at her. A gesture she knew to be the closest thing to a wave he’d offer.
“Be well, Amy,” he said, then vanished in a dazzling flash of light.
Well and truly alone, Amy hopped down from the rubble pile and surveyed the damage. Broken pavement, glass littering the streets, several tonnes of scrap metal to clear and an unexploded missile sticking out of a building like a nasty splinter. She looked to the mistletoe, still swaying in the breeze. A perfect, vibrant thing hanging high over a city street now laid to waste, salvaged only by sheer serendipity. Fate, maybe, Amy mused as she started in the direction of her apartment.
By any objective measure, her day should have been ruined. She hadn’t even managed to tick off the last few items on her to-do list, and on top of it all some of her favourite stores were absolutely going to be closed indefinitely for repairs. She should be angry. Sad. All sorts of things. Yet her stride was easy, carefree, and her heart felt lighter than it had all day.
Amy brought a hand to her face, brushed her fingers against her lips, the lifeless fabric a poor substitute for what had been there only minutes before. She replayed the scene still fresh in her mind, committed every sensation to memory. Her. Shadow. The pair of them together, haloed in brilliant light and standing tall above the wreckage, sharing a kiss that stirred her heart more than she had anticipated for how chaste it had been. A tender smile crept onto her face and she was helpless to stop it.
Not that she had any reason to. Her day hadn’t been so bad, after all.