A/N: Hi! So this is my first attempt at a Sleepy Hollow story and I was really surprised by the response. Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews. It really means a lot to feel so immediately welcome in a fandom.

This chapter takes place a few weeks after the first. Ichabbie has been married about 6 weeks. There's going to be smut very soon, probably the next chapter.

October 2015

Ichabod frowned as he reached for Abbie in his sleep. He kept scooting closer but eventually opened his eyes because he never reached her. He yawned as he sat up, wondering where she could have been. He got out of bed and checked the bathroom but she wasn't there. He left their bedroom, headed for the kitchen and smiled at the plate of grilled cheese sandwiches on the table. A yellow Post-It was stuck to the table in front of the plate: "Lazy Sunday brunch for 2 if you ever wake up (:" He touched one of the sandwiches and found it was still warm, meaning she hadn't been up too long without him. But where she was at the moment was his most pressing question.

The porch swing creaked and he smiled. Of course she would be there. It was the perfect "lazy Sunday" spot. He was still getting used to the idea of a lazy Sunday, having been used to staunch church attendance on Sundays. However, he was willing to try anything for Abbie, his wife, his "darling angel." That was his nickname for the week. It seemed he came up with some new way to profess his adoration for her every few days.

He picked up the plate and went out onto the front porch. Abbie sat on the porch swing, her short legs almost spanning the length of it, a portable heater on the rickety table before her. He smiled at the sight of her reading Tender is the Night, one of his novels, as she sat swaddled in one of his sweaters and a pair of fuzzy gray socks. She looked up at him with a smile. "Took you long enough to get up, sleepyhead."

"I was embracing sleeping in," he replied as he joined her on the swing, placing her little feet in his lap. He took one sandwich and offered her one. She declined her own sandwich but accepted a bite of his when he offered it. He looked at the novel in her hands. "Fitzgerald…I'll admit I'm only mildly familiar with his work."

"Really? This was in your box."

"A gift from your sister. I've not had time to read it."

"I haven't read it since high school." She marked her page then shut the book. She put the book on the table then took the plate from her husband and climbed into his lap. Ichabod kissed her forehead and set the swing rocking.

"I found the loveliest record for you at the thrift store," he said proudly. Abbie smiled. He loved thrift stores more than anywhere else, except possibly IKEA. He seemed to marvel at the things people discarded, especially antiques, but the record section was undoubtedly his favorite. Abbie had come home with a record player for him one day after finding his Amazon Wish List—another obsession of his—and he had been buying records ever since. He seemed to have a particular love of guitar-heavy rock: Hendrix, Clapton, Gary Clark. She wondered what gem he had found for her. "It's a collection of duets by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. And I found the most wonderful song on it, called 'Stars Fell on Alabama.' I've never known such to happen but it's a marvelous song nonetheless."

"I love Ella Fitzgerald," Abbie replied, reaching over to take a sandwich from the plate. "These are cold."

"As are your legs." He wondered what possessed her to come out into the autumn morning without trousers, or "leggings," the confusing trouser-tights of which she seemed to own an infinite amount.

"You're warm." She snuggled closer, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping his long arms around her.

"I think we should go inside before you get a cold, precious." He scooped her up and carried her into the house, setting her on the couch and draping a blanket over her legs, then went outside to retrieve their sandwiches and turn off the heater. He returned and found her lying on the couch where he'd left her, her eyes half-lidded. She sneezed as he passed. "I'll make you some tea while I heat up our sandwiches."

"Will you make me caramel apple spice?" He had learned the recipe from a Starbucks barista at some point and now made a better version in Abbie's opinion.

He returned from the kitchen and knelt beside her. He smiled as he kissed her cold nose. "You're chilled. I should put you to bed before I start."

"I'm okay. I'm already warming up."

"Are you sure?" She nodded and he went to the kitchen. She could hear him setting the microwave and getting out the pot he needed to mix the apple juice and caramel syrup. A smile spread across her face as she lay back on the couch. If anyone had told her that being a witness to prevent the powers of hell from bringing about the apocalypse would make her the luckiest wife in the world, she would have laughed in their face. But now all that was behind them and everything that lay ahead was poised to be the most thrilling adventure yet.

A short while later, they were snuggled under the blanket, the television set on the History Channel. Abbie lay half asleep on top of Ichabod, drowsily listening as he corrected the television while he ran his fingers through her hair.

XXXXX

Monday

Abbie smiled as she entered the kitchen, finding Ichabod already there, putting Tupperware containers in a brown bag. She walked over and wrapped her arms around his bare torso, planting a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Good morning."

He reached back and squeezed her hip. "It certainly is, precious."

She lay her head against his warm back. "I wish I didn't have to go back to work. Why can't I stay on vacation forever?"

He caressed her hip. "Don't frown, angel. Think of how happy you'll be to see me after a day's separation."

Abbie snorted. "Someone thinks highly of himself."

xxxxx

Abbie smiled at the picture Ichabod had sent her of himself, dressed in a white button down shirt and dark pants in preparation for his job interview at the local history museum. He was particularly delighted at the prospect of taking the bus to work every day. Abbie had tried to explain that it wasn't as glamorous as he thought, but he was so happy that she allowed him his exuberance.

Put your hair up like I showed you. You'll look hip, she replied. He sent her another picture of him, his hair twisted expertly twisted in a bun, and a pair of half-rimmed tortoiseshell glasses perched on his nose. Following the resolution of their mission, he got rid of most of his colonial garb, except his coat and his cherished boots. He seemed to have settled into a "hipster businessman" aesthetic, developing a fondness for bowties, suspenders, and straight-legged chinos that he could pair with white dress shirts. Abbie had turned him into a disciple of the "man bun" once he decided to grow his hair back out to its original length.

She saved the picture then went back to the report she was filling out, only looking up when Daniel stopped at her desk.

"Letter from the BAU," he said, placing it on her desk. "They're really after you, Mills."

Abbie took the letter and looked at the seal. "Virginia's a little out of my wheelhouse. Plus, Crane isn't really the best at handling change."

"And leaving him behind is out of the question?" Daniel had his suspicions about Abbie and her peculiar best friend, but he couldn't confirm anything other than that they were too close to be "just friends." He knew for a fact that "just friends" didn't look at each other that way.

"Not anymore." She shyly raised her left hand where her shining wedding band glinted on her ring finger.

She wasn't surprised when Daniel's eyes widened but he quickly corrected his expression. "When, uh, when did this…happen?"

"Over my vacation. It was for his citizenship. I mean, we live together already and everything so it was pretty easy." As if she'd summoned him, Ichabod appeared before her desk, holding a brown paper bag. Abbie stood and smiled at him in his interview outfit, his hair pulled back into a loose knot at the crown of his head, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Hi. What's up?"

He held up the bag. "You forgot your lunch and I thought I'd bring it to you on my way to the museum."

She smiled as she took the bag. "Thank you for bringing it. What did you make?"

"Grilled chicken nuggets, grilled cheese cut diagonally, and tomato soup." He smiled proudly at putting together her favorite lunch. "And for dessert, this."

He produced a Hostess chocolate cupcake pack from his pocket and smiled when Abbie's eyes lit up. "Did you know they do not sell these at Whole Foods? I was directed to a Piggly Wiggly—ridiculous name for a store—where I found not only these but an array of sweets. I must admit I purchased two boxes of these delightful chocolate cakes with chocolate icing on them."

Abbie chuckled. "Don't eat them all before I get home."

"I make no promises, precious." Behind Abbie, Daniel's eyebrows quirked. Ichabod tried not to smile smugly. "Agent Reynolds, nice to see you as always."

"Same to you, Mr. Crane," Daniel replied.

They stiffly shook hands and Ichabod gave a glimmer of a cocky smile before quickly turning his attention back to Abbie. "I must be going. Shall I pick up takeout for dinner?"

"Orange chicken and fried rice," Abbie replied. "I'll stop by Seven-Eleven and get you a slurpee."

"Cherry please." His excited grin never failed to make her smile. He brushed her hair back from her face then pulled her into his arms, unsure of what level of affection he should display in her workplace. But she tilted her face up to smile at him and he couldn't resist lifting her onto her toes to kiss her. "I will call you after my interview."

"Okay." Abbie smiled, reaching up to gently smooth his beard. He leaned down again to kiss her forehead, making an affectionate trail down the bridge of her nose to her lips, and Abbie gave a soft exhale, completely forgetting her boss's presence until Daniel cleared his throat. They sheepishly parted and Ichabod caressed his wife's face one more time before taking his leave. Abbie resumed her seat and picked up her pen, but paused when she realized Daniel was still standing behind her desk. She turned to look at him. "Need something else?"

He pursed and un-pursed his lips. "I can't say I'm surprised."

Abbie shrugged, unsure of how to proceed with the conversation. "I guess it's just one of those things, Reynolds."

"Hmm," was all he replied.

Abbie sighed, unsure of how to have this conversation, or if she should have been having it at all. She and Daniel hadn't been anything in so long that there was really no need for an explanation, but she wished things hadn't happened the way they did. "What do you want me to say?"

"When?"

She sighed. "After we got married. At first it was just for the papers, but then something…changed. I don't know what. But now we're dating, if that makes any sense."

"You moved in together, got married, and now you're dating? Mills…"

"I know."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Are you happy? Does he make you happy?"

A smile spread across her face. "Yes."

Daniel nodded and left her desk. Abbie wasn't sure what to think of the conversation. She honestly hadn't thought enough about what people might think. She'd been too busy being what Jenny deemed "obnoxiously content."

xxxxx

Abbie wasn't surprised to find Ichabod on the couch when she returned home, his head bent over his iPad. She knew he was shopping on Amazon. "What are you buying?"

"Bookshelves. I'm in serious danger of overloading mine. It's developed this habit of creaking as though it will collapse at the slightest provocation."

Abbie reached over his shoulder and hit the HOME button on his iPad then pointed at the iBooks app. "You can just buy books on here."

He opened the app and his eyes widened at the store. "Exceptional!"

Abbie laughed in his hair as she leaned down to kiss the crown of his head. "I'll go get dinner on the table."

He was still scrolling when she called him a few minutes later, so engrossed that he didn't hear her until she called a second time. Ichabod smiled as he brought the iPad to the table to show her his new bookshelf. "Can you believe the literature iTunes is giving away for free? These are the classics of our generation! I would be appalled if it wasn't such a boon on my part."

Abby's eyebrows quirked. "Technically they're the new books of your generation, and the stuff everyone is tired of reading of mine, but I get your point."

He set the iPad down as he took a seat opposite her. "Do you know what I noticed today?"

"What?"

"We have no photographs. I dropped in on Jenny and Joe earlier to return some books, and I noticed they had several photographs of themselves from various occasions. We don't have any and I would like some, or at least a few on my phone to show my new co-workers at the museum."

"You got the job? I'm so proud of you!" Abbie squealed. "We can have some pictures taken if you want."

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Ichabod noticed his wife's distracted picking at her food. "Something the matter, angel?"

She shook her head then shrugged and made a noncommittal noise. "N—Not really. I don't know. Reynolds and I had a really weird conversation after you left."

"Did he offend you?" Ichabod hadn't been a fighter since his Witness days, but he'd have a row with anyone who upset Abbie without a second thought.

"No. He just…" Abbie sighed. "As you know, we have a past, and he hasn't really said much about it since we started working together, but sometimes I'll catch him looking at me and… We went to this little shack on the beach when we first started dating. It was only a week but we turned off our phones and just existed for a few days. And sometimes I catch him looking at me and I know he's still there, waiting for me to come back. I think when he saw us today he realized it wasn't happening, and I never wanted to hurt him, not again after our breakup, but I think I did."

Ichabod turned the information over in his head. "You meant him no malice. Neither of us suspected such would happen between us."

Abbie bit her lip, a frequent habit when she was upset. "I'm just sorry."

"Have you apologized to him?"

"No. I don't even know what I'm saying sorry for. We were over years before I even knew you, and we both knew there was no future for us. He wants what he wants and he can't handle not getting it, and I can't be what he wants." She sighed again, ate a piece of chicken. "I'm sorry. I'm dragging down the evening. Let's talk about something happy. Tell me about the museum."

He wanted to provide more comfort but he knew her well enough to know that pushing wasn't always the road to take when she put up her "fences." He knew she would open up when she wanted to and not a moment sooner, so he did what she asked.

"Well I must take the number 3 bus to get there, and they have the most delightful research department. There is also an adjacent Starbucks." He tilted his head at her vacant expression, knowing she was hearing him but not listening. "Abbie..."

She walked over and sat in his lap, tucking her face in the curve of her neck and Ichabod turned to kiss forehead. "Heart and soul/ I fell in love with you/ Heart and soul/ The way a fool would do/ Madly/ Because you held me tight/ And stole a kiss/ In the night."

She shook her head and Ichabod smiled, standing to wrap his arms around her waist and twirl her around. "Heart and soul/ I begged to be adored/ Lost control/ And tumbled overboard/ Gladly/ That magic night we kissed/ Beneath the moonlight mist."

Abbie gave a glimmer of a smile and Ichabod grinned back, glad his silly attempt at romance was working. He set her on her feet and waltzed her around the island. "Now I see what one embrace can do—"

"Look at me/ It's got me loving you/ Madly/ That little kiss you stole/ Held all my heart and soul," Abbie finally joined, her smile immovable.

xxxxx

Later, Abbie sat between his legs, reading Anna Karenina to him while he flat-twisted her hair, something he had oddly grown to enjoy since she taught him how. Though she liked the idea of them having matching hairstyles, she had decided to keep her hair trimmed when he grew his out.

He coated a damp lock in shea butter, breathing in the heavenly mix with her sugar-scented shampoo. "Abigail, what do you think of getting a pet? I've downloaded the most wonderful app that reminds me to go to a website where with the simple click of a button, I can feed a homeless animal. And now something called the humane society emails me photos of the most lovable animals who are apparently in quite desperate need of a families. I would very much like to have one."

"A pet? Crane, do you really think we're pet people?" Abbie cocked an eyebrow at her husband's reflection in the iPad's screen.

He shrugged. "We are both agreeable people with genuinely kind dispositions. According to a very nice lady with whom I spoke on the phone, we are ideal pet parents."

Abbie couldn't help smiling at the hopeful grin on her face. "What kind of pet do you want?"

"I would very much like a cat," he answered.

"Alright. We can go look tomorrow since I work the early shift. When do you start work?"

"Monday morning." He grinned. "This shall be most exciting, darling. Can we name him Jefferson?"

Abbie laughed, wrinkling her nose. "Absolutely not."

XXXXX

Tuesday

After a series of pictures taken in the car on the way to the shelter, Abbie smirked as she watched Ichabod allow himself to become a cat tree. He apparently possessed a magnetism that drew the creatures to him, their tiny claws clinging to his clothes as they climbed him, collectively purring. She snapped his picture on her camera and he looked up at her.

"Can we take them all?" he asked, giving her a pitiful look.

She shook her head. "One cat, Crane. Pick one so we can go."

"But—"

"One or none. We're not starting our own shelter." A smile tugged at her lips at the distressed look on his face as he began plucking cats from his long frame and examining them sadly then setting them back in the pen. Soon they were all back in the pen and he looked at his wife with a dejected expression. "I can't choose."

Abbie rolled her eyes. "Of course you can't."

She walked over to the pen and peered into it. None of the cats caught her eye immediately. She'd have preferred a dog, but Ichabod's heart was set on a cat, so she looked them over again. Warmth encircled her leg and she looked down to see a stump-legged white cat winding around her boot, purring gently. She bent to pick him up and her heart warmed at his wide dark eyes. He meowed plaintively and she stroked his furry head. Abbie almost laughed at the adoration on Ichabod's face. "Well?"

"This is the one," he asserted immediately, taking the cat to cradle him.

"Let's go," Abbie replied, shaking her head at the cat bopping Ichabod's chest with his head and purring loudly.

After filling out the paperwork and stopping at PetSmart to buy him a bed and food, Ichabod and Abbie took their new pet home where he quickly made himself comfortable, jumping from surface to surface in the living room. Ichabod sat on the couch, watching him wander while Abbie tried to find a good spot for his litterbox.

"What shall we name him?" he asked.

Abbie looked at the cat and her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know. He reminds me of someone but I can't put my finger on who. Doesn't he remind you of someone?"

Crane considered the cat's face for a moment. "Irving perhaps? There's something about his frown that's uncanny."

Abbie laughed. "That's it! I knew I wasn't crazy!"

The cat jumped onto the couch and Ichabod rubbed his head. "What do you think of the name Frank Irving?"

The cat meowed a reply then climbed over the back of the couch to land at Abbie's feet. He looked up at her with his Irving frown and she laughed. "Come on Frank. I'll get your dinner."

The cat followed her into the kitchen and Ichabod followed a moment later, stopping in the doorway to take her picture on his phone as she set the cat's bowl of Fancy Feast in front of him, thinking that it would definitely be the one he showed his coworkers.

A/N: So our babies are pet parents! I'm not sure why I think Crane is a cat person but it just works for me. In case you're wondering what kind of cat they got, it's a munchkin breed. Next chapter will be their first date and possibly a little sexy time.

Reviews are cherished XOXOXO