Placing a soft knock at the door, she did her best to stop the wild beating of her heart, something that wasn't likely to happen, as she turned to look out at the sparkling lake. All morning, she'd been working her nerve up to visit him and had finally forced herself into her car, only to pull over with the need to calm her rising panic two different times. Eyes dropping to her outfit for what had to be the hundredth time, she rolled her eyes. The very idea that she'd spent half an hour contemplating what she'd wear to see him was ridiculous. As he'd only ever seen her in those God awful, complicated dresses or some other less than complimenting clothing in their time, she'd finally settled on a dark green sundress with a white jacket pulled over to give it some modesty. He'd mentioned many times that green was his favorite color, the reason why being that it was the color of her eyes. With a sigh, she thought about how she used to tease him for such an idea, yet here she was, hoping this one small gesture, he likely wouldn't even notice, would make him happy. Bringing a hand through her hair, she tried to calm her nerves, but found that quite the feat. For two centuries, she'd been imagining this day, fantasizing over what she would say, how he would react, but now that it was here, combined with the way the day before had unfolded, she found herself torn between dreading it and welcoming it. On the one hand, she knew she had to speak with him before his imagination ran wild with ideas about her life. Knowing Ichabod as well as she did, she knew he'd done exactly what she had the entire night before: stared at the ceiling and invented crazy scenarios. However, on the other hand, she knew he was going to be very resistant to anything she said simply on principle. If there was one thing Ichabod Crane was, it was stubborn. Stubborn and sulky, something Abigail had reminded her of the night before.

There was more than a slight hope in her step when she opened her front door. However, it was dashed when she caught sight of her visitor, one much smaller than the one she'd been hoping for.

"Abigail," she sighed, her shoulders dropping.

"Well, it's good to see you too, Kat," Abbie said sarcastically. "Or is it Katrina, now?"

Bringing a hand to her head, she pushed her hair back. "I'm so sorry, I was just hoping..."

Abbie nodded and stepped through the door. "Crane on the brain, huh?"

With a tired laugh, she closed the door and led Abbie to the kitchen where she'd been fixing her dinner. "I suppose that's one way to phrase it."

When she turned to begin cutting some celery, she glanced up to see Abbie standing opposite her with her eyebrows raised and arms crossed. To be honest, she'd wondered when this visit would come. Her friend had been far too calm earlier and she knew by this point, Abbie's emotions had to be bubbling beneath the surface, desperately looking for a place to explode. "I know what you're thinking."

Abbie narrowed her eyes. "You read minds now, too?"

"No," she said, bringing her knife down. "That's not one of my powers."

"But you do have powers," Abbie countered evenly.

Nodding, she considered her next words. Abigail Mills was a very hard woman to read. She usually kept her emotions in check for the most part, never allowing others to see past the walls she'd been building since childhood, but Katrina felt confident in what she was now dealing with. "You feel betrayed; deceived. You feel you should have been told the truth."

Abbie stepped up to the counter and leaned forward. "I trusted you, let you into my life."

Eyes falling back to her celery, she continued cutting it. "Is it me you're truly angry with?"

"You're the one I'm standing here with," Abbie bit out in clear frustration.

"Only because you're not able to stand before him," she returned softly, glancing up to take in the seething woman before her.

Abbie stared at her a moment longer before pushing away from the counter and pacing the length of it, something Katrina found curious. Abbie wasn't necessarily a pacer. However, someone else she knew was.

"How angry with me, is he?"

Immediately, a finger was pointing at her. "No," Abbie said heatedly. "You see, we're not doing this. We're not talking about Crane right now. We're talking about you and me and how you've been lying to my face since the moment we met."

Realizing the two of them needed a different approach if they were ever going to get anywhere, she sighed and set her knife down. "How about a trade? You're a police officer. A little this for that should be familiar, should it not?"

Abbie stared at her a moment before clenching her jaw and nodding. "You first."

With a deep breath, she said, "I explained the reasons for my secrets, but you must know that everything I have told you has been the truth."

"You said you were a nurse, not a witch."

"I am a nurse," she replied with a shrug. "I simply failed to mention how long that has been my occupation."

Abbie rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed with her omission of the truth. "Do you spy on me?"

Katrina raised her eyebrow. "I believe it's your turn."

Abbie pursed her lips before saying, "Is he angry? No. He's silent, and if you know him as well as I'm beginning to think you do, then you know that's much worse."

A shot of pain went through her heart as she dropped her eyes. Ichabod being silent was never a good thing. It seemed the weight of her secrets now rested heavily upon his shoulders as well. She suddenly felt the urge to seek him out and throw herself at his mercy.

"Well?"

"No," she whispered, gaze once more finding her friend. "I do not spy on you. I've only been here in wait. When I realized who you might be, I knew I could expect Ichabod to possibly show up soon enough." She shook her head as the years of torturous forced patience swirled in her mind. "Every day for the last five years, I've...hoped it would be the day." Her eyes fell to her hands. "Though, my hope lessened the longer I went without results. I honestly thought I'd made another mistake and had begun to resign myself to another century without him." A moment of silence passed between them before she sucked in a breath and continued, "You have been a true friend, Abigail, one I did not expect to find when I moved here. Between you and Jenny...I felt as though, for the first time in two centuries, I had a family."

At her admission, Abbie looked away from her to take up a stare with her refrigerator. "Yeah, well, what else is new? My family's always been dysfunctional."

With a small smile, she thought about what she needed to make certain. "I love him."

"Is that why you're sleeping with Nick?" Abbie asked with raised eyebrows, her arms crossed again.

Letting a heavy breath fall, she shook her head. "Do you have any idea how long two hundred and thirty-one years is? How lonely a person can become?"

Abbie held up her hands. "Look, I get it and I really don't care who you're sleeping with, but Crane...He means something to me. So, I don't care if you're an angel sent from Heaven or the Almighty Himself, if you hurt him, the two of us are going to have some serious issues."

"I broke things off with Nick shortly after Ichabod's departure this morning," she said evenly, though admittedly, taken slightly aback at Abbie's protectiveness. "Ichabod is my only concern."

Narrowed eyes greeted her for a moment before Abbie nodded. "Good. Now, about Crane..."

The door opening prompted her to spin around from her place on the porch steps, her eyes taking to raking over his startled face as he stared at her. "Hi," she said with a bit of a squeak, which of course had her wanting to run straight back to her car. Where was her independent nature when she needed it? She hadn't been this off her footing since the first time she'd accidentally touched Ichabod intimately while stitching a long gash along his thigh. The amount of blushing the two of them had produced in embarrassment had left them bright red in each other's presence afterwards for a solid week.

Unsure how to respond to his simple nod in return, she shifted uncomfortably. "I thought-Our conversation was interrupted yesterday and I..." Nerves taking her over, her eyes fell to the ground and she heard his sigh, one she knew well enough to know he was giving in to defeat.

"Would you like to come in?"

Gaze jerking back to his, she gave a small smile before easing past him and into the cabin. "It's been a while since I've been here," she offered softly, her fingers trailing the back of the couch as she looked about the small home.

"You've been here before?"

She turned to find him frowning in confusion. "Oh yes, the Sheriff, Reverend and I have been friends for many years now." With a tilt of her head, she dropped her eyes again. "I suppose we were friends."

"I'm sorry," came his soft whisper. "It's always difficult to lose a friend."

Shaking her head, she replied, "We've all made sacrifices."

He stared at her a moment with something she wanted to call a mix between sympathy and regret before he gestured to the couch where she moved to sit as he took up a place in the chair beside it. As she crossed her legs to make herself comfortable, she noticed his eyes wander down her legs as he nervously ran his hands over his thighs. Biting back a satisfied smile, she pretended to remain oblivious to his wandering eyes as he cleared his throat. "I imagine you have a particular topic to discuss."

With a tight smile at his refusal to acknowledge their past, she replied, "I'd say we have plenty to discuss, but I did have something specific to speak with you about at this time."

"Alright," he said, shifting in his chair in clear discomfort.

"Ichabod," she began softly. "I know things have most likely been difficult for you."

His eyes fell to his hands and everything within her pled with her to go to him, to comfort him. "The Leftenant's helped me a great deal."

Smiling, she offered, "Abigail has always been a kind soul. When she determines to call you friend, it's meant to be a for life sort of thing. Have you met Jennifer, yet?"

"Yes," he replied with a slight groan. "I've met her."

With a laugh, she said, "From your reaction, I can see you have. She's quite the character, but also a fierce friend when the time calls for it." Silence fell between them and she found herself unabashedly staring at him. The number of times she's screamed to the heavens to just let her see him one more time, for just one moment spent in his presence, and there he sat; his hair pulled back, his blue eyes still the most vibrant blue she'd ever seen. When he began once again shifting uncomfortably, she realized she'd gotten caught up in her thoughts, forcing her to gather herself and continue. "Anyway, I, uhm, Abigail visited me last night."

His eyes widened. "Visited you? For what reason?"

"Apart from the two of us being friends?" she asked to which he looked slightly confused. "She's hurting and she needed a place to put her anger."

"Sheriff Corbin," he said softly. "It's never easy to discover the people you love have been lying to you for the entire time you've known them."

His shot at her found its place in her heart, but she chose to ignore it. "She told me the reason for your visit yesterday. The ID."

"Oh," he said, realization washing over his face. "Yes, I'm forever indebted to the Leftenant, but I must admit I would much prefer to have the means to provide for myself."

"Of course," she agreed, understanding his sentiments completely. Ichabod had always been a proud man. "I can take care of that simply enough. Any identification you require, I can provide. As for a job, Abigail mentioned, with the right paperwork, she thinks Captain Irving might give you a position as a consultant for the Police Department. Though, if that doesn't work out, I'm sure there's something else for you."

As she spoke, he nodded along. "I'd appreciate that. The days grow long with nothing to occupy me other than demons when they appear."

"I imagine they do," she offered softly, her eyes falling to her hands, which she was twisting in her lap. It was tearing her apart with how awkward it was between them. It had never been this way before. Even through their years of stumbling over themselves in each other's presence out of nervousness, they'd still managed to make at least the smallest of conversations.

"The Leftenant said you're a nurse in this time as well."

Gaze back on him, she smiled. "I suppose you could call me a sort of private nurse. I travel a great deal, gathering artifacts and seeking out various spells to help us in our cause."

"How do you make a living doing those things?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she grinned. "There are perks to being a two hundred and sixty-five year old witch. I've collected quite a bit of wealth over the centuries which allows me to live in comfort."

His eyes bore a curiosity that she missed seeing. He'd always had such a strong desire to understand, to discover the world and its secrets, but then it faded as his eyes narrowed. "You're immortal?"

"No," she answered firmly, shaking her head. "It's a spell. I cast it after..." She dropped her eyes again. "After you fell, I had no reason not to. I knew I needed to remain alive to be here when you awoke again. I just never imagined so much time would pass."

"So, it can be broken?"

There was a slight hope in his voice that she couldn't deny hearing and it tore through her heart to recognize it. "Yes. Anytime, I wish to resume the aging process, I'll be able to."

When she returned her gaze to him, she took in his stiff form as he stared into the hearth, his blue eyes lost in thought. Then, he was suddenly on his feet. "If that was all..."

Disappointment at his dismissal flew through her and she knew it was written all over her face. With a deep breath, she stood and took a step toward him. "Ichabod, I know you're angry with me."

"I'm not angry," he said quickly. "I simply wish to be alone."

Pursing her lips in an attempt to bite her tongue and not push him, she nodded as she began walking to the door. "Very well, I-I have something for you in my car if you'll just follow me."

By the time she was popping her trunk, she needed the support of her car to keep herself on her feet, her emotions now waging war on her body. She'd walked ahead of him as he'd grabbed his coat and boots to give herself a moment to gather herself, though, she was failing in her attempts.

"What is it that you have?"

Nearly jumping out of her skin, she wiped at her cheeks before turning to him. The moment she did, however, his face fell, but he made no mention of her state as she gestured to the boxes. "I have your things."

"My things?" he asked with a frown. "What things?"

Turning to lift the flaps on one of the boxes, she watched his expression turn to one of shock as he reached in and pulled out a small book. "My journals."

Unable to help it, she smiled. "Yes, as well as your clothes, weapons, and anything else you owned."

He flipped through a few of the pages in clear wonder before looking back to her. "You kept all of it?"

"Of course," she answered softly. "I knew you would need it all again one day."

"Katrina, this is..." His words fell away as he replaced the journal. "I can't believe it's all here."

Without warning, his arms were around her, his body pressed tightly against hers. Shocked at the gesture, she hesitantly brought her arms up to wrap around his back. "Thank you, Katrina," he whispered into her neck as he clung to her.

Fighting the urge to fall apart in his arms, she whispered, "They were a comfort through the years."

He pulled back just enough to catch her eyes with a curious look. "You read them?"

Feeling self conscious, she nodded. "I'm sorry. It's just that they were pieces of you and-"

"It's alright, I just..." Now, he was the one looking self conscious. "I wrote about you."

Her smile returned as she raised an eyebrow. "I noticed that. You uhm...you were quite detailed in your description of some of our...encounters." The blush that spread over his face and neck brought a laugh out of her as she brushed her fingers over his cheek. "Don't be shy now, Ichabod. You certainly weren't then."

His mouth opened and closed like some sort of flapping fish, but no words actually made their way out of him.

With a teasing grin, she added, "The way you wrote about our encounters kept me warm many nights where I was alone and...missing you."

Obviously catching her not so hidden sexual meaning, he cleared his throat and stepped back from her before nervously gesturing to the boxes. "I can take them?"

Smiling at his avoidance of her words, she said, "Of course, that's why I brought them."

As he turned to lift two, he began making his way back and forth to the porch before returning for the last which had spilled some of its contents. When she bent to place them in the box on the ground, she jumped at his hand touching her neck.

"You're wearing it."

Confused, she turned back to him only to find him staring at her necklace. Glancing down to his fingers, which were now running along the chain to the small sapphire that was usually tucked and hidden between her breasts, she sucked in a breath. Eyes back on him, she whispered, "Since the night you put it on me, it's never left my neck."

His gaze snapped to hers. "You've worn it all this time? Why?"

Emotions swirling, she answered softly, "You know why, Ichabod."

Picking up the last basket of supplies, she turned only to let out a small squeal to find him standing only feet away.

"Oh, Katrina," he said clearly apologetic. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

With a laugh, she shook her head. "It's alright. I simply wasn't expecting you."

He smiled and stepped forward to take the basket from her hands. "Allow me."

Smiling at his offer, she pointed to the table across the room. "Just set it there."

A few steps later and he was pushing the heavy basket across the table to rest beside the others. When he turned, she was quick to close the distance between them and wrap her arms around his middle. A moment of surprise passed over his face before he smiled and settled his hands along her back.

"I thought you weren't returning until the morning?"

He shrugged and leaned down to brush his lips to hers. "I was eager to return to you."

"Were you, now?" she asked, unable to help her grin.

"Mhm," was his response as he trailed his lips down the side of her neck, pulling a moan from her. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. I couldn't concentrate. I definitely couldn't sleep."

Eyes falling closed, she twisted her fingers in his shirt as he continued his attentions to her neck. "This is so strange."

His mouth left her as he pulled back with a frown. "Strange? You don't...enjoy it?"

Seeing the doubt in his eyes, she quickly shook her head while giving herself a mental slap for the way she'd spoken. "Oh, no, my love." She reached up to stroke her fingers along his cheek. "I enjoy it. I enjoy quite a bit actually," she said with a light laugh. "I just...It's strange because I've wanted you to kiss me for so long and now here you are, doing it as if it were the most natural thing in the world." Eyes falling to his chest as an ache settled in her lower belly, she sighed. "I want so much with you."

When his fingers slid under her chin to lift her gaze back to his, she found him smiling. "I do as well." He reached for something in his pocket and lifted it between them. "I have something for you."

Curious, she watched him unfurl a chain to dangle between them, a small sapphire at its end. Gaze snapping to his in surprise, she asked, "What's this?"

He shifted nervously. "I know you don't want to marry until the war is finished and we can freely be together without Abraham breathing down our necks, but...I love you so desperately, Katrina."

Guilt tugged at her as the sincerity in his eyes bore into her. "I love you, too, more than I've ever loved anyone."

He looked down at the necklace. "It was my mother's. She..." He let out a shaky breath. "She said to present it to the woman I love."

A wave of intense feeling shot through her as she took in the gift. "It's beautiful."

"Katrina..." He lifted his other hand to her cheek as his eyes danced over her face. "I will wait as long as you need, my love. I simply want you to know that there will never be another for me. Until my dying breath, you will be my only."

The knot in her throat was bringing tears to her eyes, tears that held love and resented secrets. "Will you...?"

His quick nod brought a smile to her face as she turned. When the necklace settled deep between her breasts, she reached up to touch the chain as he placed a kiss to where it rested along her neck. The feel of his body pressing into her back as he slid his arms around her waist sent a wave of longing through her, only furthered by his lips trailing along her shoulder. Everything between them had always been so intense. Most of the time, she wasn't even sure there were words to properly describe the feelings Ichabod inspired in her. He was everything that felt right in her world and with the promise of his love resting between her breasts, she couldn't stop herself from turning her head to catch his eyes and lifting her hand to his face. "Don't stop."

Desire lit his eyes, but it was quickly clouded with a generous amount of doubt. "We can't. We're not-"

Pressing her fingers to his lips, she promised, "There will never be another for me either, my love. You will forever be my only."

The unintentional jerk of his body filled her with even more want. "Are you sure? You don't have to, Katrina. I can wait. I'd wait forever for you."

Running her fingers up and through his hair, she pulled him to brush her lips to his. "No more waiting."

It took him a moment to return her kiss, but then he was tightening his hands in the folds of her dress, pressing harder into her back. Many minutes later, she found herself in the back room of the infirmary where the night nurse rested when on duty. His head buried between her breasts as she writhed beneath him, her fingers digging into his back as they gave themselves over to one another completely.

"Ichabod..."

He stepped toward her, setting her pulse to racing as he lifted a hand to stroke her face. "Tell me something, Katrina." His eyes fell to her chest. "It means something to you? This necklace?"

Breathing becoming erratic at his proximity, she said, "Of course, it does."

His fingers slipped along the chain. "I remember the way it would brush my chest as you leaned over me, how it would dangle along my neck and chin as we kissed amidst our lovemaking." He replaced it between her breasts as he leaned into her, pressing her body back into her car. "And how when I was sucking at your breast it would slide between my lips." His eyes came back to hers. "Do you remember that?"

Desire coursing through her, she nodded as his lips brushed hers and breathed, "Yes."

A cold set in his blue eyes. "I suppose you recall those same actions with all the other men who did the same." Disbelief flew through her. When she jerked back in shock, his fingers gripped her arm to hold her still. "You wore it with them while allowing them to do the same things I did."

"Ichabod-" she attempted, but he cut her off, his fingers digging into her arms.

"That was my mother's necklace, Katrina. It was all I had of her and I gave it to you as a promise of our future. It meant something to us." He shook his head. "Or at least it did to me."

"It meant something to me, too. It still does," she whispered, through building tears. "This necklace is my most treasured possession, Ichabod."

His breath was coming out in sharp gasps as he was clearly attempting to control himself. "One hundred and eighteen days," he said, bringing a frown to her face.

"What?"

Blue eyes sliding to hers, he answered, "One hundred and eighteen days ago, I woke up in my tent with you beside me."

Heart in her throat, she brought her hand up to touch his face. "My love..."

"We made love," he continued softly, his voice breaking. "The last time I saw you, you were lying in my tent after we had exhausted ourselves with making love." His eyes fell closed as he leaned his forehead to hers. "Do you have any idea how many times I've shut my eyes and wished I'd stayed beneath that blanket with you? How many times I've wished I would have paid more heed to the feeling you said you had?"

Swallowing down her desire to fall apart in his arms, she ran a hand up and through his hair. "You're with me now."

He stepped away from her, the lost expression on his face tugging at her sanity. "You love someone else."

"Nick?" she asked, hating herself for letting so much time pass before she explained. "I don't love him, Ichabod. He's just..." She shook her head as she attempted to find the words for her relationship with Nick Hawley. "He and I are both...We've simply been a means to an end for each other and I care for him, but I ended things with him shortly after you left yesterday. You are the only man I have ever loved." He turned from her in clear doubt so she took a route he might understand better. "You said you saw me one hundred and eighteen days ago." When he looked at her with a frown, she continued, "The last time I saw you was eighty-four thousand, three hundred and seventy-five days ago." His eyes widened slightly, giving her the courage to go on. "Last year, after four years of watching over Abigail, I finally gave up hope that she was the Witness." Eyes on her hands, she sighed. "I fell into a sort of depression. For months, I wasted away, nearly becoming a recluse and drowning myself in the misery of others who passed through my home. Then, Nick came along and...he made me laugh and..." She reclaimed her place against him which only prompted his eyes to fall closed. "Doubt me if you want, but I am telling you that you are the only man I have ever allowed to touch my heart." With a deep breath, she took in his closed eyes. "I'm going to reverse the spell."

His sea of blue snapped open to stare at her in shock. "What?"

"I know that there is still so much for us to discuss, but...I fully intend to grow old with you, Ichabod Crane," she said in the most determined voice she could muster. "Just like we talked about."

"We talked about a lot of things, Katrina." He brought his hands up through his hair, pushing his fingers through it in a frustrated manner. "None of those things will happen now."

"We're in a different time, but we can still have those things." She took his hands and brought them to her belly, a certain kind of desperation settling in her, a desperation that was quickly taking all rational thought and throwing it aside. "We can have a family."

A frown creased his face. "You didn't want a family."

"I never said that," she answered sternly. "We discussed the possibility of children, Ichabod. We named them."

"You refused to marry me, Katrina."

"Until the war ended," she quickly countered. "This war that we're in right now."

"A war I knew nothing of!" he shouted, jerking his hands from her and throwing them up. "You manipulated my life, positioned me where you wanted me, played upon my love for you."

"No," she said equally as heated. "I never used our love. I gave everything I was to you."

"Well it wasn't much, was it?" he bit at her. "It's not as if I'm special because you've certainly whored yourself to plenty of others, haven't you?"

Before she knew what was happening, her hand had connected with his face, drawing a shocked expression from him. Pushing her own shock aside, she warned, "Don't you ever speak to me that way again." With that, she moved around her car and opened the door, but gave him a last glare. "For the record, I've only ever lain with three men, not the numerous amounts that you've concocted in your wild imagination, and those other two men came to me when I was at the lowest and most desperate times in my life. So, you let me know when you're ready to grow up and realize that the world isn't black and white, Ichabod. It's hard and it isn't always going to fall into the nice little categories you have set up for it."

With that, she lowered herself into her car and started the ignition before backing out. Sparing him a last glance to see him in the same spot she'd left him, she spun out of the driveway.

Phew, so Katrina needs to slow her roll and Ichabod needs to take a really deep breath. Next up, Ichabod and Abbie share a moment filled with discussion of relationships, love, and stylish hats.