Y'all are so damn convincing and supportive so I've decided to turn this into a three part story. This one is a bit NSFW. I'll be changing the rating on part three. Enjoy!

"Ouch, my feet hurt."

After a day of full of colonial themed activities, Abbie was exhausted to say the least. Who would have thought hanging out with a bunch of dressed up history geeks could be so much fun?

There had been food, displays, contests, and dancing. And, of course, Crane had her participating in all of them. They'd had so much fun that she hadn't even noticed the fact that she was wearing an uncomfortable corset or heels.

That quickly changed once they were away from the festivities. The shoes now pinched her toes and the corset dug into her ribs. It was getting to the point that it was painful just to move. Yet, she pushed on, the memories of the fun they had distracting her from the pain.

They walked arm in arm down the quiet sidewalk, music and laughter fading behind them. To avoid dealing with traffic and parking earlier, they decided to park in front of the archives a couple of blocks down, a decision she was now starting to regret. She grunted in annoyance as she quickly reached down to adjust her constricting shoe.

He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Would you like me to carry you?"

She snorted, "I don't think anybody could carry me with all these layers on." She grimaced, adjusting the corset, "No, what I really want is to get out of this dress and these shoes."

He silently continued walking before quietly pointing out, "We are near the archives."

She gave him a curious look.

"Perhaps we could find you a change of clothing?"

The temptation to escape the confines of her corset and shoes was too good to pass up. She tried to sigh but grimaced when she realized how impossible it was to fill her lungs with air. "Yeah, s'good idea," she muttered.

He nodded at her as they continued on into the archives. The moment they stepped into the building, she clung to his elbow and ripped off her shoes. She sunk to the ground barefoot and closed her eyes. "Ahh, relief."

He smirked, outstretching his hand for her shoes. "You've demonstrated an impressive amount of tolerance given that you are unaccustomed to wearing such an elaborate ensemble."

"Obviously you've never seen me in Spanx and stilettos."

He gave her a strange look, unsure as to what spanking had to do with clothing. She looked at him and rolled her eyes, dismissing her comment. Changing the topic of conversation, she asked. "So are we good on the bet?"

He bowed his head slightly. "Your debt has been fully repaid."

They pushed open the doors to the archives. "Yeah? Teaches me to ever gamble against you."

"Rightfully so," he quipped as he shut the doors behind him, her shoes still in hand.

The playfully grinned at each other. The built-up adrenaline throughout the day slowly dissipating as the quietness enveloped them. Though the room was barely lit by the moonlight streaming through the windows, neither one of them made any attempt to turn on any lights or candles. It set a calming, intimate mood, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the event.

Deciding to fill the abrupt lull in conversation, Abbie smoothed the sides of her dress before spinning around, her dress floating around her. "Although, I gotta say, this, right here, is pretty cool." She pointed out the whirling of her dress. "And the whole dancing thing. I mean it looked just like that scene from Cinderella or in Pride and Prejudice where everybody's in sync and twirling around. And those steps. I didn't know you could get down like that, Crane."

He chuckled modestly and bowed his head. "I am no Nijinsky but I am certainly no stranger to ballroom dancing."

She smiled and nodded, before recalling one move that stood out in particular. "What was that, that move? Where you..." She stepped and twirled awkwardly as she tried to reenact the step.

"Ah," Ichabod chimed as he quickly set down her shoes on the nearest table and he took her by the hand and waist. "Are you referring to this?" He stepped and twirled her about until she felt like she was floating on air.

She giggled mercilessly and yelped as he continued maneuvering about the darkened archives, careful to not bump into the various tables. He hummed an old song she'd never heard before as the light of the moon softly illuminated them. She clung to his shoulder and buried her face in his arm as she continued laughing uncontrollably.

After nearly tripping over their feet, he stopped and joined her in her glee. He smiled widely as he held her hand near his heart and kept her waist firmly against him. He gazed upon her adoringly, cherishing the reappearance of her carefree attitude that had been missing upon her return. He loved seeing her smile and laugh. It put his soul at ease.

He had been uncertain if their outing would inspire detestation or reluctant acquiescence. When he'd won the chess game, quite unexpectedly in all honesty, he'd spent an entire day thinking about what he would have her wear. Curiously, his thoughts led him directly to a lilac colored dress he had seen amongst the collection of colonial reenactment clothing. Fortuitously, the costume maker owed him a favor and the historical society had a charity event planned for the end of the month. T'was as if fate had intervened solely to gift him with an opportunity to woo her the only way he knew how: as a colonial gentleman in love.

Subsequently, it not only provided him with a reason to court her without frightening her but it managed to coax out the features of her personality that had been tempered after enduring months of isolation. Her spiritedness and lightheartedness had finally emerged. She glowed with contentment. He thoroughly, albeit greedily, relished in it. For even though the event had ended and the night would come to its inevitable conclusion, he did not want to part from her side. He needed her close to him, warming him with her presence, filling his heart with her joy.

Once their laughter and quiet teasing had died down, she looked up at him, exhaling noisily, and smiled happily. "This was fun. First time ever, I'm actually kind of glad I lost."

"As am I."

She wrinkled her nose, and playfully poked his chest. He chuckled. Their smiles faded as they continued to stare at each other, their touching bodies swaying intuitively. She stopped and swallowed nervously. He studied her face as if looking for a sign.

"My corset."

He knit his brow in confusion.

"It's really digging in there..."

"Of course." He quickly released her. "Mmm, let's see. Clothes. I think...ah, yes!" His voice wandered as he began his search for an extra set of clothes for her.

She smiled tenderly as she followed him around the room with her eyes. He was more than what she could have ever imagined. Though he never said it, she knew he loved her. She could see it in his dedication toward her, in his tender gazes, and his never-ending patience and understanding. She saw it in the way he did everything he could to see her content and in the way that he gave her the space she needed to not lose herself. She'd never seen him so fulfilled as when he kept the two of them satisfied. It was as if his happiness was entwined with hers.

The realization terrified her. She inhaled carefully. Her instinct was to run away, get as far away from all of this as possible, but her heart knew it would only bring her pain. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving him, rejecting him, of not taking this opportunity and just running with it. She wanted all this. She wanted him, outdated clothes and all. She took a steadying breath and decided to take a leap of faith.

His voice carried in from the other room. "I've recovered a long-forgotten Sleepy Hollow police department sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants. If you don't object to demoting yourself from your FBI status, at least in regard to clothing choice, these should suffice." He stopped in front of her and held the clothing out to her.

She swallowed nervously and turned her back toward him. She shakily inhaled and rested her hand over her jittery stomach. This was it. This was her chance. She pulled her hair up with the other hand. "Untie me?"

Silence filled the archives. A beat passed before her insecurities settled in. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe everything she had picked up had all been in her head. She turned her head slightly and glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

He stood completely still. His hand tightly gripped the extra set of clothing. She couldn't make out his facial expression due to the dimly lit room but she assumed it was as stoic as the rest of him. She blinked rapidly. This was stupid. I shouldn't have pushed it. Why'd I have to go and ruin it, she thought bitterly.

She lowered her hair and slightly turned toward him, fumbling through giving him a way out. "Or I could just..."

"No," he said firmly, the word echoing throughout the archives. "No," he repeated quietly. "Please, Lieutenant, allow me."

She looked at him unsurely and hesitantly turned back around, pulling her hair up once again. After a moment, the sound of his boots echoed throughout the archives as he slowly approached her. She felt his fingertips on her back. She clutched at the material against the front of her body, bracing herself for what was to come. Her body trembled in anticipation.

He slowly undid the buttons of the dress until he reached the bottom of the trail. The back of the dress fell open, exposing the lacing of the corset. She could hear him take in quiet, shallow breaths. He wet his lips before his unsteady fingers fell upon the garment. He untied the knot and began pulling the lacing undone. With each swift pull, Abbie could feel her body expand in relief and the cool air of the room soothe her overheated torso. Goosebumps crawled up her arms and back. It was all she could do to stop from moaning aloud from the sheer relief. Her breath began to quicken in pace with her thundering heart.

With one last pull, the corset came open. Abbie stood still. This was it. It was now or never. She slowly released her grip on the clothing. She eased her arms out of the dress and it pooled around her waist. The corset abruptly fell to the ground.

And there she stood in her sheer chemise – braless – and with the bottom half of a colonial dress falling off her hips. She bit her lip as she slid the dress and stockings off her and to the floor. Crane took a step back as the edges of her dress fell upon his boots. She stood still, her back still toward him, only this time, the only thing preserving her modesty were her thin chemise and lacy pair of underwear. She took a deep breath and turned around.

His breath hitched. His eyes leisurely roamed over her soft form. His jaw went slack as he took in the tautness of her stomach and arms, the curves of her hips and waist, and the fullness of her exposed breasts. She was a heavenly angel illuminated by the soft moonlight, sent from the heavens above to both humble and awe. He was an unworthy man blessed to witness her glory.

"Is this...?" she asked hesitantly, searching for any signs of uncertainty on his part.

"Oh, Abbie," he whispered adoringly. "This...you are absolute perfection."

She looked down timidly before stepping out of the dress and toward him. He stood completely still as she rested her small hands on his waistcoat. Her fingers traced the pattern before delicately landing on the buttons. She slowly undid them and looked up at him awaiting his reaction. He kept his eyes on hers and shrugged the long coat off his shoulders. She slid the vest off along with it. He rested his hands on her small waist, his thumbs brushing the sides of breasts through the translucent material.

She reached up to unlace his shirt, exposing his manly chest. She ran her fingers up and down the planes of his chest, appreciating the firmness and broadness of it. She looked up at him and raised herself on her tiptoes. He leaned down and his eyelids fluttered shut.

She kissed him, softly, tentatively at first. She studied his reaction after each feathery kiss. He seemed contently lost in her gentle caresses. Her heart danced in euphoria. She shut her eyes tightly and gripped handfuls of his shirt, pulling him down, and hungrily devoured his lips. He tasted of sweet glory. He moaned against her mouth as she savored him. They explored each other's lips and mouths, actively seeking a comfortable pace and position.

After realizing their height difference only served to strain his neck, Ichabod growled in frustration. He wanted no distraction from reveling in the paradise her lips provided. Thus, he lowered his hands to grip her ass and lifted her. She immediately wrapped her legs around him, pulling her warm center closer to his waist. He broke the kiss and lowered his lips to her slender neck, worshiping every inch, licking the sharp angles of her clavicle. She sighed and tilted her head to give him better access. She tasted of salty bliss.

He slowly began walking toward the nearest table. He set her down on the edge and reached behind her to sweep off the books and papers that lay upon it to the floor. Now, at a better angle, he reached up and held both sides of her face, his long fingers edging into her hair. He slowly worshiped her lips, tugging, licking, sucking, until she whimpered for more. The sounds of their kisses and moans echoing throughout the room.

She pulled him closer to her with her legs and rolled her hips against him. His body jerked forward, his arousal pushing against her. They broke the kiss as they both groaned in pleasure at the sudden sensation. She recaptured his lips quickly before reaching for the bottom of his shirt. She needed him, all of him, right now. Before she could pull his shirt past his chest, he grabbed her hands to stop her. She looked at him in confusion, her chest rapidly rising and falling. He looked up at her, just as breathless, undeniable passion in his eyes.

"One moment."

She furrowed her brow as he quickly kissed her hands and hurriedly dashed into the other room. She heard some scraping and dragging, then a flap of a blanket. She saw a soft, warm glow emanate from the room. After a few minutes, he returned with a smile upon his face with no boots or stockings on his feet. She looked at him strangely.

Here she sat, in her underwear, legs dangling off the edge of table, sexually frustrated as hell and there he stood oddly satisfied with himself. If she wasn't so damn turned on, she might have had enough willpower to leave. Though, as he determinedly walked toward her, his eyes devouring her, she knew no amount of willpower would make her leave those archives anytime soon.

He approached her, smirking seductively, lifted her off the table, and set her down on her bare feet. He silently took her hand, kissed it gently, and led her to the other room.

"Crane…," she said edgily, warily following him.

He didn't stop until they reach the entryway of the next room. When she saw what he had done, a smile crept on her face.

Hey again! Please don't be mad, there will be a part three. It started out as fluff but has evolved into something else entirely so I'm trying to get my bearings on this one. This is my first time writing smut so I'm taking my time. Please bear with me. Thank you for the support! Love you all!

Your freaking out writer,

semul