Written for jelazakazone as part of the Sleepy Hollow fanworks exchange. She asked for Ichabod under the influence of drugs of any kind.

Harmless

"Ichabod, are you alright?" Abbie asked helping him up.

He seemed dazed and uncoordinated, but he was able to focus on her and her words, so he couldn't have been too affected. Who knew what was in the damn powder the wannabe coven's leader had dusted him with? Best not take any chances – once he was standing on his own, Abbie helped him out of his coat and handed it to one of the cops that responded to her call for backup.

"Take this to the Lab! I need to know what this thing is and how to counteract it once it starts to kick in."

She had no idea what the effects of the powder were even supposed to be. They had stormed into the abandoned building to stop the newly formed coven of witched – and a poor excuse for witches, at that – from performing their ritual. Said ritual was nothing less than a virgin sacrifice, as it turned out when they crashed through the door to find a girl, petrified with fear and covered in nothing but the fine, golden powder that now also dusted Ichabod's clothes. Abbie didn't want to think what form that sacrifice would have taken, but they had found her in the nick of time and that was all that mattered. Now she sat quietly, wrapped in one of the threadbare curtains that once separated the room they were in from the rest of the floor.

Ichabod was still a bit unsteady on his feet, but he didn't mind. He'd have offered the girl his coat, if Abbie hadn't already shipped it off as evidence, so he began unbuttoning his shirt. That she didn't even wonder what he was doing was starting to worry Abbie just a bit.

She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. "I don't care how many more layers you have under that, the last thing this poor girl needs right now is a strip show." Before he could protest and explain his intentions, Abbie added, "Her modesty is adequately preserved until we can get her a proper change of clothes."

Ichabod nodded his agreement.

"We just have to get both of you to a doctor. I really don't want to take any chances with that powder."

She looked him over, making sure nothing else was wrong – he had taken a pretty bad hit from one of the witches and got covered in the dust during the coven's strategic retreat right into the arms of the police. He seemed okay.

They were waiting for the ambulance to arrive for the girl. She was still quiet and refused to talk to anyone, though Abbie managed to get her a jacket.

The Lab had called to let her know that the powder was pollen. They couldn't identify the flower and chances were, considering who had been using it, that it wasn't some garden variety lily.

The doctor had given him the all clear. A few scrapes, but he was otherwise okay. They were still doing some tests in case there were reactions to the pollen, but she was allowed to take him with her.

The girl was still in shock, but they could find not much wrong with her, either. Aside from the psychological impact, she was going to be alright.

While there was no need to keep him under observation, Abbie wasn't going to leave him alone just like that.

The ride back to the station was… odd. Ichabod was restless, and recalling tales of daring from times long gone (not from experience, but even older), and generally being too cheery considering what they'd been dealing with that day. He still seemed a bit out of it, except his mood had changed.

An animated Ichabod wasn't such a rare sight and everyone mostly ignored him while he followed Abbie into the captain's office for a debriefing. Weird shit was happening, Abbie was sent to investigate, Ichabod was tagging along – just another day at the office.

Somewhere along the way, Ichabod had acquired coffee.

Ichabod was practically bouncing by the time they were done speaking to the captain.

"Are you sure you're fine, Crane?" the captain asked dubiously.

Ichabod studied him with an arched eyebrow. "Of course I am fine. The doctor cleared me, did he not?"

"Well," Abbie cut in, "The doctor said there was nothing wrong physically, but we're still waiting for the blood test, in case there was some sort of drug in the pollen."

"I am sure it will only confirm that it is nothing more than harmless pollen," Ichabod assured them, throwing the paper coffee cup away with a mournful look.

Captain Irving didn't look too happy with this explanation. "I don't doubt the pollen part," he said, "But I'm not so sure about the 'harmless' part."

Ichabod looked a little offended, in the 'do you actually believe I can be taken down by mere fluff?' sort of way.

"Don't worry, Captain," Abbie assured him. "I'm taking him home and he'll be back to normal by morning."

This time, Ichabod turned his raised eyebrow of scrutiny on her. "Am I not being my 'normal self' now?"

Abbie raised an eyebrow of her own in return. "For a given value of 'normal', yes. But you barely had one coffee and you're bouncing all over the place. I haven't seen you like this since I introduced you to energy drinks." Ichabod nodded, his first encounter with the Red Bull was hard to forget. "And an hour ago, you were barely standing. I'm taking you home, you can have a shower and the Captain can stop worrying about you."

He seemed satisfied with this plan and he gave her what should have been one of his sweet smiles, but due to his current state, felt more like he was failing at flirting.

"You know what, Lieutenant Mills? I can drive Mr Crane home. You've already had a busy day," the Captain offered.

"No, don't worry, sir," Abbie insisted. "I'm okay with babysitting Crane for a bit."

The Captain looked resigned. "Keep me informed if anything comes up!"

"Will do, sir."

The blood tests didn't reveal anything wrong, but Abbie got a call from he Lab about some rats and what effect the pollen had on them… maybe… still inconclusive.

Well, Abbie thought, rats tended to be like that anyway, right? If the pollen really did cause… that… Ichabod had a lot more restraint than anybody gave him credit.