Abbie put on her coat and fluffed her hair out behind her. The activity at the police station was winding down, and she was grateful for a chance to go home.
"Mills, you ready?"
Abbie, looked over to see Captain Irving at the office door, his coat and scarf already on.
"Sorry, Captain?"
Irving laughed wryly.
"Drinks with the department, Mills. If I gotta go with these turkeys then nobody else gets a free pass."
Abbie groaned. Then again, was drinking with some of her friends really any worse than going home and microwaving a frozen pizza alone? She decided, while there was certainly nothing wrong with that scenario, that going out might de-stress her a little.
Irving popped his head around the door again.
"Hey, and bring Crane. I wanna see his royal British ass doing shots."
Ok, not so de-stressing then.
Abbie found Crane sitting in front of the station, waiting for her to give him a ride home as per usual.
"Ready, Leftenant?"
Abbie laughed.
"Um, the Captain invited us for a little, what would you say, er 'libation,'" she said, "so come on. It's just a couple blocks over."
Ichabod looked a little taken aback, but nodded his agreement and they set off through the snow towards the bar on the next street.
When Abbie swung the door open in a flurry of snow, most of the department was already there, talking noisily and laughing. She found Irving sitting at the bar and she and Ichabod squeezed over to join him.
"Hi, Mills. Join the baby-sitting duty." he laughed. A couple detectives were buying shots and others were nursing beers as they played pool. Abbie smiled, it was good to see the officers having a relaxing evening for once.
Ichabod was looking around with wide eyes.
"Didja do much of this back in your day?" Abbie asked him.
He gave a small smile and shook his head.
"I was always too busy grading papers in England and too busy spying once I got here." he said.
Abbie laughed. "Ok," she signaled to the bartender, "two whiskies, please!"
Ichabod nodded approvingly.
"A strong drink, Miss Mills. You are truly fearless."
"Hey, stop that." came a voice from Ichabod's other side.
They turned to see Luke Morales, clutching a beer and leaning heavily on the bar.
"Abbie doesn't need you flirting with her, British guy." he slurred.
Abbie looked calm, but her tightened mouth gave away how angry she was.
"Luke, you're drunk. Get out of here and stop bothering us."
Morales drained his beer and motioned for another. His voice turned whiney.
"What you even doing with him, Abbie? You'n me were just fine, why you gotta go messing that up?"
Abbie stood up. Her towering anger made up for her lack of height at this point.
"I will do whatever I like, Luke, and it is none of your goddamn business. Come on, Crane."
Ichabod followed her towards the pool tables where they found a new booth to sit at with some of Abbie's friends from forensics. Luke watched them go with narrowed and puffy eyes.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
Ichabod stared into his drink unhappily.
"I don't mean to cause trouble between you and your, er, ex-betrothed." he mumbled. Abbie's face softened and she hesitantly laid a hand on Ichabod's arm.
"Crane, none of this is your fault. Luke and I have history, and he's deciding to be a jerk about it. Nothing more." she smiled at Ichabod. "Hey, I'm gonna grab a game of pool with the others, wanna join?"
Ichabod glanced over at the pool tables and shook his head.
"Thank you, Miss Mills, but no. I'm quite content here."
"Ok." Abbie said. "Be back in a little bit."
Ichabod watched her leave and join her friends at the pool tables. He often found himself comparing Abbie with Katrina in the deepest part of his mind. Abbie was so different from Katrina, but they had similarly strong wills and confident manners and each reminded him of the other.
Ichabod took a sip of his drink, the fiery whiskey burning his throat but warming him too. He couldn't quite work out what he felt about Katrina right now. He missed her, of course, but they'd only been married a year or so before he died and now sometimes he wondered if he had ever really known her at all. Luke's insinuations about himself and the lieutenant only confused him more.
Ichabod set his drink down and got up. He was feeling slightly claustrophobic, what with the loud officers around him and the warm haze of whiskey in his head. The cool air outside would no doubt do him some good. He wrapped his coat more tightly around himself as he glanced over to Abbie, absorbed in her game. She wouldn't miss him for a few minutes. He strode to the door and stepped outside, his breath instantly visible on the chill air.
The crisp night was still and wonderful. It gave Ichabod a chance to think clearly for once since he'd been in this time. He shuffled some snow around with his boot and gazed up at the sky. He wondered what England was like in this century, and realized with a sharp twang that his parents were of course dead by now. The thought barely registered.
What's wrong with me Ichabod thought. His senses still couldn't quite believe his situation, perhaps it was the only way his brain was able to cope he reasoned.
Ichabod glanced back through the windows into the bar. No, disbelief wasn't the only reason he was able to cope he realized as he watched Abbie playing pool enthusiastically.
"Hey, you staring at her?"
Ichabod turned quickly to see that Luke stood in the snow nearby.
"I was merely watching their game," Ichabod said coldly.
"Listen, man, Abbie was my girlfriend first, and I haven't given up on her!" Luke yelled, more loudly than was strictly necessary.
Ichabod faced him squarely, staring down at the other man.
"Miss Mills is perfectly capable of managing her own life, I assure you." he said bitingly.
Luke looked sly all of a sudden.
"Unlike you, you mean?"
Ichabod tried to keep his disdainful expression intact, but he was confused by Luke's comment.
Luke sneered.
"You follow her around like a puppy, you know that? Like a goddamn lost puppy. Are you even capable of taking care of yourself?" Luke laughed. "How did you even make it this far?"
Ichabod opened his mouth to reply but his thoughts were too crowded. Luke laughed again.
"I'm not even worried about you'n Abbie anymore," he said drunkenly, "'cause you're pathetic. Not even a man, are you."
Ichabod's fists clenched behind his back. Maybe it was the effect of the drink or simply of his thoughts but Luke's words were hitting home uncomfortably. He did feel useless most of the time. The only person who had made him feel like he could actually contribute something had been Abbie.
Luke's face lit up.
"Hey, hey you even know how to drive or anything? Everytime I see you Abbie's chauffeuring you around! She even drives you home, man!" Luke shook his head disgustedly and snorted with laughter. "Can't even fend for yourself, how'd you make it over from Scotland or England or wherever you're from?" his eyes narrowed unpleasantly. "Betcha found some 'ol lady to hold your hand huh."
"That's enough."
Ichabod turned to see Abbie in the bar doorway, her arms crossed tightly.
"Luke, you ever talk to me or Crane again and I'll rearrange your precious face." she said loudly. Irving appeared at her back, his face taking in the scene.
"Morales, beat it." he said. "I'll speak to you tomorrow." He turned to Luke's partner Devon, "make sure this ass gets home ok."
Devon sighed and put an arm around Morales's waist as they trudged back to their squad car together. Luke threw a triumphant look back at Ichabod as he left, stumbling through the snow.
"See you on Monday, Lieutenant." Irving called as he headed for his car.
"Night." called Abbie after him.
Ichabod turned to Abbie, opening his mouth to speak but Abbie shushed him.
"It's ok, Crane. I heard what that bastard was saying to you." She looked right at Ichabod with her dark eyes. "None of it was true, ok? You're not useless." Her eyes took in his sadness. "Never could be useless."
Ichabod closed his mouth and simply nodded. He knew then, absolutely, that he would be alright.
Abbie smiled.
"I've had enough of these clowns for one night, let's get you home." she said.
Ichabod fell into step beside her and they began walking back to the car.
"And for the record, I like driving you around." Abbie grinned. "I like the sound you make when we pass another Starbucks."
"There are so many! And the taxes on baked goods!" Ichabod's chest huffed in outrage. "If I could gather some generals and inform them of the situation-"
"Aaaaaaand that's why I like driving you home."