Notes: Thank you all for the wonderful and insightful reviews and comments. I'm really enjoying writing this story and happy to know that you all are enjoying reading it. Please forgive any grammatical errors, I try to go through it after I step away for a bit, but I don't catch everything. Thanks Again!
Abbie looked up at Ichabod completely baffled by the look of consternation strewn across his face. A million questions ran through her mind. Had something happened? Was he in danger? Was she in danger? But at that moment she realized she didn't need all of the answers, in fact she didn't need any of them. He told her to get out of the car, and that was enough. He had her trust. She turned to Talum and apologized in as heartfelt of a manner as she could before taking Crane's hand and exiting the vehicle. When Talum leaned over the passenger seat, and asked her if she was sure, she assured him that she was.
"He's my partner, I have to go." She said closing the car door, just the driver of the vehicle behind them began laying on their horn. Ichabod held her by the arm as she stepped over the curb and through the grass, she stops, releasing from him just after her heels clack against the pavement. Her eyes are questioning. He gazes at her, trying to mask the sense of indignation pulling away at his insides. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but he does, and it's only furthered by how breathtaking she looks beneath by the soft glow of the street light. The fact that another man got to share her company, to bear witness to her beauty, and very nearly so much more, infuriated him. He takes her by the elbow, turning to start back down the sidewalk, but she stops him.
"Crane wait, what's wrong? Where are we going, and where are Jenny and Frank?"
He calms himself a bit before speaking. "Miss Jenny, and Captain Irving were in the taxi cab the last I saw of them, you and I are going home, we can phone for another escort as soon as we are in a more illuminated sector of the block."
"But wait, why did you pull me out of Talum's car, I thought there was some sort danger, or an emergency. or something?"
"There was an emergency, and you very well were in danger." Abbie felt a cold chill rip through her body. She'd had a few drinks, but not so many that she felt she was off of her game. Was there something about Talum that she'd overlooked? Was he not who he claimed to be?
"What do you mean, what are you not telling me?" She asked stilling him from starting down the sidewalk once again.
"Miss Mills, you were in the motor vehicle of a fellow, you have only just met, heading to God knows where, and once you arrived at your destination God only knows what he would have tried to do to you." Abbie couldn't believe her ears.
"Hold on, what?" She cupped her hand to her chest, partly due to relief that there wasn't some huge emergent situation underway, and partially because she couldn't believe what he was saying. She heard him, but she needed to hear him say it again to make certain she understood him correctly. Ichabod could see that she was growing irritated, and sought to better explain his actions.
"Lieutenant, we all seek…love, but this…this is not the way to find it, you have had a large amount of alcohol this evening, I believe it is fair to say that you are not in complete control of your faculties."
"—Are you serious, I'm not in control, you're high right now!" She said pointing at him, Ichabod raised a finger to alert her that he wasn't finished making his point.
"First, I was high, or stoned, or whatever you choose to call it, but the news of your predicament was, shall I say, sobering. I feel myself once more, so thank you kindly for that. "Further, the gentleman—or shall I say cad, because only a cad would play upon a woman's emotions when she is not in complete control of them—nevertheless, that man sought to take advantage of you, to play on your overly relaxed state, and use you to fulfill his own selfish desires." Abbie's mouth fell open as she felt anger rising from the pit of her stomach, and spreading outward.
"Un-believable." She said shaking her head. She didn't dare say another word, she was far too upset. She needed some time to cool down, how could she talk to him about this, when at the moment, she could barely stand to look at him. There was overprotective, and then there was Ichabod. After glancing around and determining her exact whereabouts, she texted Jenny to meet her at a location just up the road. Without uttering a word, Abbie started heading down the street, pissed that she was out there in the dead of night, walking down the sidewalk, in gorgeous, but horribly uncomfortable heels. She could hear him clamoring after her.
"Lieutenant?" He called, surprised at how quickly her legs carried her down the walkway. He couldn't believe she had the gall to be angry with him after he saved her from what was sure to be a regrettable situation.
"Lieutenant?" When she failed to answer him, he lamented, "I suppose no good deed goes unpunished."
His words spun her around. Earlier, she resisted the urge to speak because she was angry and didn't want to risk saying something that she didn't mean, but hearing him just then, spouting off behind her, made her realize she no longer gave a shit.
"No good deed?" She laughed bitterly. "No, Good, Deed!" She shouted slowly, suddenly happy that they were on a busy road, and not in a residential area, because someone would surely call the police, and she didn't need any additional gossip circulating around the station.
"Let's see like when some guy materializes out of thin air, spouting off about how he's from a-noth-er cen-tur-y, and everyone think he's a lunatic, but you, you believe him. So you take him in, you befriend him, you try to teach him everything you know about living in today's world, which is no small task by itself, but going further, you keep him," She counts off on her fingers, "clothed, bathed, fed, until he is able to keep himself. You surrender everything to him, with no complaints, no reservations, and the one night that you try to do something for yourself, he ruins it. No good deed like that?"
Ichabod remains quiet, she knows how to wound him, and just that quickly she has. Believing himself a burden to her hurts him in a way he can't begin to describe. He never wants to hold her back, or make things worse for her, only better. In fact, he'd prayed to God, on more than one occasion, that he can be a blessing to her rather than an encumbrance.
"Wake up Crane, this is not the eighteenth century anymore, and that guy…" She points towards the traffic just before tucking her hair behind her ear, "What you were worried about him doing to me, is exactly what I wanted to do TO HIM."
Ichabod tilts his head, looking at her skeptically. After a moment he begins softly chuckling.
Abbie's mouth hangs open briefly. "Oh you don't believe me?" She asks. "I was going to use him…whisper sweet nothings in his ear, and tell him everything he needed to hear until he gave me what I wanted." Abbie looked down at her feet before casually shrugging. "Then I was never going to see him again."
Ichabod starts laughing harder now, only further incensing Abbie. It wasn't until then that he realized he may have overreacted, and panicked for no cause. In all his worry and eagerness to keep her from this man, he failed to consider one detail; it was Abbie. First, she was trained in combat, armed with a firearm, and as tenuous and intelligent as any man he had ever served with. She would never allow anyone to force her into doing something that she didn't want to do. Admittedly, he never once considered that she would be the one to initiate such action, and hearing her proclaim as much did nothing to further that belief. There was something in her voice just now that he didn't quite believe, almost as if she was trying to convince herself, as much as him, that she was capable of having this type of a relationship. Second, he knows her, and listening to her only affirmed, what had he been thinking clearly, he would have remembered, she was private and horribly mistrusting. She lacked the ability to give herself, in that way, to a man who did not possess at least a portion of her heart. She might have believed she could, but he felt that ultimately she would not have gone through with it. Flirting and dancing with men in a crowded club was harmless, safe, but opening her body to someone was far too intimate, and she was much too disciplined at keeping people away to enter into such an undertaking lightly.
"What the hell's so funny?"
Ichabod gathers himself, and subdues his laughter. "Forgive me Miss Mills, but quite honestly I do not believe that you could nor would use a person in this sort of way."
"Really?" Abbie takes her phone out and starts going through it.
"What is it that you're doing?" He asks.
"Looking for Talum's number." She replies with her eyes fixed down at her phone. Suddenly everything doesn't seem so funny, and all Ichabod's feelings of dread and jealousy return quite instantly. He knows that she will not allow a man to touch her body, unless he has first touched her heart, but he had no desire to see any man with a chance to gain entry to either. She was…beyond. Beyond beautiful, sexy, and charming, beyond good, strong, and caring, and beyond what any man on earth rightfully deserved. A man would be a fool to lose her affection if she chose him, and the thought of her choosing anyone other than him instantly sent him towards despair.
He quickly closes the space between them before she begins to call. "Lieutenant, stop this." When she doesn't immediately stop, he takes her phone. She goes to take it back, but he holds it out of her reach.
"Are you serious?" She asked him amazement. "Sexist bullshit, what is it too much to hear that a woman might want to take advantage of a man sexually?" She said, finally snatching her phone from his hands. Abbie looked up at him and saw something glaze over in his eyes, little did she know, the tightness in his face revealed only a smidgen of his ire. "Good" she thought. "No reason why I should be feeling this way, because of him butting in, and he's feeling all peachy keen."
"What's the problem Crane, you seemed full of insight a moment ago."
"Miss Mills you have made your point." He said, his tone growing harsh matching hers.
"No, seriously, no matter what time period you come from men will always be men, women will always be women. Clearly I'm not the first woman to do something like this, and I sure as hell won't be the last. This is nothing new, so I really don't see what's so difficult to believe. Are you really trying to say that there were no women during your era who, like me, wanted to enter into a sexual relationship with a man, and wanted nothing more."
"Indeed there were, they were resoundingly referred to as women of ill repute, or harlots…" Abbie couldn't help but gasp. She wished immediately that she could have seen it coming, so she could've guarded against revealing how much it hurt. But she was surprised, and it did hurt her, in a way that only he could. They fought, but never this way, and the effects of the infraction were all over her face. Coming from him those words gave her more hurt than she felt like carrying, and she wanted to give some of it back. But the lump in her throat warned her that if she tried to speak, she might cry, she was that mad. Before her response would have been instant, she would have slapped him, hard, without even thinking about it. But after all of her training in conflict resolution, she no longer operated in the same manner. She thought about things before she did them, considered her options, and weighed the consequences and repercussions. She wanted to hit him, hurt him, the way that he hurt her, but what good would it have done. Ichabod stood in front of her trying to remember exactly what he was saying before he saw that look upon her face. Anger he could deal with, but the disappointment present in her eyes was unbearable. His own eye's pleading as he reached for her when she turned to walk away.
"No, no, no, no Abbie!"
"No." she quietly managed as she shrugged away from his touch, and resumed walking. He rested his hands on the top of his head, and brought his fingers through his locks. He began walking after her allowing her the space he knew she needed. Ichabod wanted the moment back. He wished he had delivered his words in a manner in which she could have readily seen that they were not aimed to hurt her.
It wasn't long before they reached the dry cleaning business that Abbie directed Jenny to meet them at. Abbie could see Jenny and Irving standing outside of the cab looking for them as they approached.
Jenny walks out to meet her. "Bells I'm sorry I"
"—One thing," Abbie replies never slowing down. "I ask you to do one thing Jenny. Was that your idea of keeping an eye on him? He was in the middle of the road, he could have been killed." Abbie gets into the cab and slips her heels off. Jenny felt terrible. One moment they were at stop light outside of the club, and the next he was out of the car. She tried getting the cabbie to turn around, but there was no turn off between where they were and the entry ramp for the expressway. She had him take the next exit, and come back, but by the time they returned Abbie had already texted her asking to meet somewhere else.
The four of them piled into the cab and headed towards the Captain's house. The ride there was completely silent. Abbie stared out of the window, Ichabod stared at her, and Frank and Jenny curiously stared at the both of them. When they got to his house Jenny walked with him to the door.
"Sorry…" She apologized. "About all that, they're just…ya know."
"What that? That was nothing." Irving smiled.
"Ha!" She laughed. "Yeah right, that had to be more intense than getting on an elevator with Solange and Jay-Z. Irving laughed stepping closer to her, and taking her hand.
"Well I hope you got everything you wanted for your birthday." Jenny stated. She noticed that Irving's expression turned serious.
"Almost" he replied, "I had a great time, but there is one other thing I wanted, something I've wanted for a while now, something that just over a year ago I wasn't sure I would ever want again." He admitted.
"Frank" Jenny started speaking, but her words left her as his hands found her waist. Before she had a chance to realize what was happening her lips were under his, and it felt so good. His arms locked around her, and she loved the feeling of being in them. He pulled his head back from her.
"Stay, just, just for the night, we don't have to do anything, we can just talk or sleep….." He brushed her cheek with his hand.
"I want to wake with you tomorrow, I want these beautiful eyes to be the first thing I see. Please… stay." Jenny wanted so badly to go into the house with him, and forget about everything for the night, but she couldn't.
"I want to, I really do" she said softly. "But Abbie, she needs me, we've been drinking and she shouldn't be alone tonight."
"She won't be alone, Crane'll be there with her."
Jenny swallowed. "That's kind of the point, she shouldn't be alone with him, tonight."
Irving nodding his head. "Well maybe another time then."
Jenny pursed her lips, "Yeah another time….or."
"Or?"
"Or you could just come, and stay at our place tonight, I guess if waking up with me is what you really want, it shouldn't matter where we wake up." Irving wrapped his hand around hers.
"It's what I want, are you sure the others won't mind." He said tilting his head towards the side of the house where the car was.
"No, of course not, even if they did, it's my house too, and I say you're welcome."
"Okay, well. Just let me grab a couple of things." He stated turning toward the door.
Abbie and Ichabod waited patiently in an awkward silence. She kept her eyes fixed outside of the window, but could feel Ichabod's boring into her. She pulled her forearm away as she felt his fingers curl around it.
"I am so deeply sorry Lieutenant. I did not mean the words I so foolishly uttered, please allow me to explain." Abbie turned her head to face him, and it killed him to see the hurt still present in her eyes. He wouldn't forgive himself for this. He needed to tell her. At the time, he truly did believe he was doing her a service by pulling her from that car, he did worry that she was drunk, and that she would be taken advantage of, but there were details which he chose to omit. Primarily, how he couldn't bear the thought of her being with another man, and how his jealousy was eating him alive. He loved her. It was foolish of him to presume that he could keep something this momentous under wraps for such a great duration. What's hidden always has a way of revealing itself.
Shockingly Irving and Jenny both returned to the cab.
"Umm is it alright with you guys if he comes to hang out for a while, we're not really tired so we're going watch a movie."
"I don't have a problem with it" Abbie grinned, coming out of her thoughts enough to be happy for Jenny.
"Nor do I." Ichabod agreed.
"Jenny." Abbie looked at her younger sister, silently conveying an apology for going off on her, and for charging her with watching Crane on Frank's birthday to begin with.
One look at her sister's face and Jenny knew exactly what she meant. "I know, and don't worry about it." She said. Abbie also knew that the only reason Irving was staying at their place was because Jenny had refused to stay at his.
"You could've." Abbie said.
"I know, didn't want to." Jenny replied. Ichabod had heard them speak to each other this way on many occasions, and found nothing strange about it. Irving on the other hand was a different story.
"Wait a minute, what kind of telekinetic conversation is going on here. Yall' got the shining or something?" The sisters started laughing.
"Nooo, it's not funny, because one of you might be saying redrum, and then the other one could be like redrum who, and then you'd answer, redrum Frank, and I wouldn't even know. So I need you guys to have your conversations out loud." The girls broke out into laughter, and the tension in the cab was eased a bit. The joke was lost on Ichabod, and Abbie made a mental note to show him the film when she didn't feel like gauging his eyes out.
Later that night, after her shower, Abbie crept downstairs to the refrigerator. Bastille was blasting through her headphones as she entered the dark kitchen. She left if that way, she didn't need light, it would only make it that much harder for her to fall into the mind-frame she needed in order to sleep. Her fingers sifted through the freezer in search of her personal sized container of butter pecan ice-cream. When she couldn't find it she knew immediately Ichabod had eaten it because Jenny wasn't particularly fond of it. "I'm a whore but he eats my ice-cream." She thought. "Wait a minute that doesn't even make sense." But those thoughts kept coming to her, the fact that the man she loved, even though he didn't know it, thought of her as a whore, and basically told her as much. She pulled a fruit tray from the frig and sat it on the counter. After pulling herself onto the countertop and crossing her legs, she reached beneath her opening the drawer, and grabbing a fork.
Unbeknownst to Abbie, Ichabod sat behind her at the kitchen table eating her ice-cream watching as she brought a forkful of fruit to her lips. He could see her quite easily, as the dimmers from the hallway slightly illuminated the section of the kitchen where she sat, still the area where he sat was shrouded in darkness. He could see her iPod strapped to her arm, and knew that she couldn't hear him.
He had stood outside of her door earlier. Too afraid to knock, for some time, but still unable to walk away. When he finally did muster up the courage to knock, it was met only with silence from the other side.
"Please answer me," He said bringing his hands to the wood. His palms were sweaty as they wrapped around the door knob, but he turned it ever so gently and peeked inside. When he didn't immediately see her he took a few steps forward. He saw her dress lain across her bed, with a pair of tan lacy panties just beside it, and a few inches away, her brassiere. He took a deep breath, knowing that she was completely naked just a few feet from where he stood, he knew that he shouldn't have entered her room without permission, but she had ignored his previous attempts to speak with her. He jumped at the sound of her shower starting, and quickly retreated from her room. That was how he ended up here…watching her. Her lips were wrapped around a strawberry, which she gently sucked before separating half of it from the fork. Ichabod's mouth opened and before he could stop it a low groan crawled out of it. He stood at once, walking over to her, placing a hand upon her shoulder. Had he been thinking he would have made certain to approach her from the front, that way she could have at least seen him coming. Perhaps then she wouldn't have been so startled, and she wouldn't have screamed, and surely she wouldn't have thrown her hand back smacking him in the face. In record time she'd flipped on the light switch across the room and already wielded a weapon in the form of a broom.
"Crane! What the hell?!" Abbie yelled realizing Ichabod was her assumed attacker. He stood a few feet in front of her bent forward holding a hand over his eye. She turned around at the sound of footsteps trampling down the stairs. Jenny rounded the corner first gun locked and loaded, and Irving followed just behind her.
"It's okay, I'm sorry, sorry. Crane just crept up behind me out of nowhere, I didn't even know anyone else was in here, I thought we were breached." She informed them, still working to calm her nerves. Jenny lowered her weapon, releasing a heavy breath. She looked down at the broom in her sister's hand.
"We need to hide more guns, what the hell were you gonna do with that."
"Whatever I had to." Abbie replied putting it away.
After Jenny and Irving returned to bed, Abbie started putting the fruit tray away. Ichabod walked over to her holding his palms down trying to keep her from leaving the kitchen.
"What the hell are you doing sitting down here in the dark?" She asked.
"Honestly, I was contemplating what I might do, to get you to speak to me." He replied.
Abbie's eyes squinted and shifted to the table. "So you decided upon eating my ice-cream?" She asked trying to blink away her disbelief. She knew he'd eaten it, but to catch him red-handed. Ichabod looks over at the empty container.
"No, I am afraid I did finish your ice-cream, as all of mine was gone, but"
She rolls her eyes at him, reinserts her earbuds, and starts heading back upstairs. She only manages a few steps before she feels his hand grasping her t-shirt.
"Ugh, please let go." She groans.
"Not until you agree to speak with me." She hears him say.
"I don't want to speak with you, I can think of about a million things I'd rather do right now then talk to you." She contests.
"Abbie, we are bound, and we reside under the same roof, eventually you will have to speak to me."
"I know that Crane, it's just…" She closes her eyes from frustration, as he takes her by the shoulders turning her around to face him. He gently pulls her headphones from her ears.
"What could you possibly have to say to me that actually matters Crane? I have tried to be a good friend to you, and I have never once judged you, and you basically called me a whore."
"And I would never place you in such company." He said quietly.
"What?" Abbie asked holding her hands out in front of her. "Is that supposed to make sense?"
"That is what I have to say to you, and I pray it somehow matters. It was the other half of the statement that I made earlier. I was merely stating that indeed, there were women who entered into such relationships, and they were called women of ill repute and harlots, and I would never place you in such company…but somewhere along the way I realized that I was wrong."
Her eyes grew. "Is this supposed to be an apology, because it sounds to me," she spoke rapidly pointing at her chest, "like you're just confirming your previous assertion, that I'm a whore?" Ichabod leaned his head to the side in that way he did when he wanted to admonish her.
"Lieutenant." His eyes crept over her, "Where I was wrong was in giving any credence to the notion that a woman should be called a harlot for satisfying her desires, while men are championed for the exact same action. Initially, I sought to differentiate you from them, but I quickly realized that even though I find you…different, that it was wrong to cast judgment upon women who have actually done what you attempted to do. When I paused from speaking it was not because I was finished speaking entirely, rather I realized what I was saying was fundamentally flawed.
He reached out taking hold of her hand, stepping closer. "You cause me to do that time, and time again."
"You make me wiser…stronger….better." Abbie withdrew her hand from his and folded her arms across her chest. Her expression, a mix of hurt, confusion, and a subtle detachment that wasn't there before. The most difficult thing was knowing that he put it there. She had trusted him with parts of herself that could be injured, things with which she trusted no one, and he'd let her down, and now her guard was up. Whether accidental or purposefully, it mattered not. He hurt her. He wanted to untie her arms, and pull her into his, but he decided to be more careful with her, how he wished he would have been earlier.
"So," she spoke quietly, you weren't actually calling me a whore?" Her eyes were a little glossy, but she kept her tears at bay. The quick breath she took after she was done speaking, was the only thing alerting him as to how emotional she was at that moment. Ichabod sighed softly, and slowly brought his hand to her cheek.
"Never." He breathed, stepping closer to her. "You must know, I would never say something like to you." He promised.
"I don't know, you seemed really angry, and I know I said some things, but I would never go that far."
"Abbie, please." He spoke slowly, sensing she was talking herself out of believing him, out of trusting him. "Think of what you are saying, I was….angry, and worried, and…" He took a breath and decided to tell the truth, "quite honestly jealous," his voice fell to a whisper, "but I would never speak to you in that way." Abbie let her arms fall to her side.
"Jealous, but why would you be…" Her mind sifted back through the night's events, she immediately flashed through of all the times he did little things to keep various guys away.
"So wait a minute, is that why you were scaring all of those guys off?"
He hung his head speaking quietly, "Yes. I knew that you would draw a fair amount of admirers, but I did not want them…." Say it, tell her, near you because I am desperately in love with you. He thought. He brought gaze to hers trying to find the courage to speak his truths.
I'm all he has, he's worried about someone taking his place, and stealing me away from him. Abbie thought. He was quiet, and she had an inkling of what was bothering him, so she spoke up.
"Ichabod," she stated placing a hand on his arm, "no one and nothing can ever take your place. No matter who or what comes into my life, I will never put them or it in front of you. You're my best friend, you don't ever have to worry about someone stealing me away, it will never happen."
"Hmmph." He breathed, a certain air of resignation encompassing him. It was funny to him how even when he had the nerve to speak the truth, she didn't really hear it. He pulled her to him, and began rubbing his hand up in down her back.
"I am so terribly sorry I hurt you, I will take the greatest care to ensure that it shall never happen again."
Abbie nodded her head against his chest. "I'm sorry for all of that crap I said about no good deed." She mumbled into his shirt. "I want you here, promise me you'll never forget that." She said tightening her arms around his waist.
"Oh my God." She quickly pushed back from him. "I hit you." She said, her face cracking. "Crane I am so, so sorry. I thought you were an intruder, we should get something on that." She stated turning towards the refrigerator.
He stilled her movement. "It is not necessary." He informed her. She reached her hand up and lightly drug her fingers across the place she'd struck him earlier.
"Does it hurt?" She asked softly.
"No." He replied. She looks up, innocently batting her lashes.
"A little." He admits. She raises up on her tippy toes, pulling him forward and placing a kiss just under his eye. His hands wrapped around his waist and he lost his breath a little as her soft fleshy lips pressed into his skin.
Abbie returned to her feet, smiling up at him, her eyes twinkling as she remembered the softness of his beard against her chin.
"Actually did I say a little, it hurts a lot." He recounted, a devious grin spreading across his face. She laughed gently, pushing him away from her. He's amused and clearly delighted with himself. After their chuckles subside, she finds herself wondering what if the situation had been reversed. What if she had startled Ichabod, and he inadvertently struck her.
She reached down, grabbing one of his hands with both of hers. She stretched it out, examining it, holding his pinky and thumb in opposite hands. She shook her head at the sheer size of it. She looked up at him, his hand still clenched in hers. He could never have an error like the one that just occurred. She was strong, and she was a fighter, but the outcome of him accidentally backhanding her would have had a much more far reaching effect.
Abbie shifted her weight on her feet, wincing slightly from discomfort.
"Miss Mills," he said curiously, "Are you in pain, are you not well?"
"It's nothing, just those damn heels, on the concrete, my foot's a little achy." He had scooped her up and placed her on the counter before she'd barely finished her sentence.
"Which one is it," His voice was low as he reached for her foot. "This one?" He asked touching her right foot.
"No, the other one, but you don't have to," she fell silent as he shushed her. He gripped her foot and his hand, and began slowly massaging it. He couldn't believe how soft they were, she was on them constantly, and yet her skin felt brand new. Abbie slouched back, wrapping her hands around the other edge of the island. Damn he's good with those big assed hands. She closed her eyes resting, as he worked the kinks out of her foot. After a while a noise somewhere in between a groan and a whimper wrested out of her, and she felt his hands still. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. His lips were parted slightly, and his cheeks were tinged with red, the look in his eyes was errant, vacant, as if he were somewhere other than where he actually was. Neither of them spoke right away. Ichabod had never wanted her more. It was bad enough seeing her make that face, the one that displayed complete satisfaction and an ancient longing all at the same time, not to mention she'd licked her lips just before bringing them together into the sweetest pout he'd ever seen. But that sound, that sound was downright unfair, and no matter how many soldiers he'd slain on the battlefield, he couldn't imagine what he'd done to deserve such torment. He was still because he didn't trust his hands. He was certain they would override his brains instruction to continue rubbing her feet, and rip her tank top and tights off of her instead. He knew firsthand that she was wearing nothing underneath. He wanted to have her, right here and now in the middle of the kitchen, to part her thighs and taste her, and then fill her with more than a year's worth of restrained love. After a few moments, he broke the silence.
"All better?"
"Mm hmm." She nodded still embarrassed from her moan. She looked up at him as he brought her foot up, and kissed the sole of her toes. She felt a moistening between her legs, lamenting the fact that there were no underwear there to catch it.
"Good." He replied.
"Great, thank you." Her eyes flickered with gratitude, and the same look he saw earlier that night on the dance floor. "Well I guess I'm going to call it a night." She motioned to get up but he stopped her.
"I insist." He said turning and offering his back to her.
"A piggy-back ride!" She laughed. "I think I can make it."
"Nonsense." He said as he pulled her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, smiling against the back of his head.
"Wait, wait, wait," she cautioned as they reached the edge of the kitchen. "I forgot my headphones."
"Miss Mills, that additional distance, will cost you an additional fee."
"Is that right," She asked. He carried her up to her room, turning so he could drop her onto her bed.
"Thanks for the lift." She said, her voice filled with sweetness.
"At any time." He smiled, watching as she unfolded her satin pillow case, and placed it around one of her pillows. He'd seen her do this many times, she had a duplicate of the same pillow case at the cabin.
"Miss Mills, why do you not simply leave it affixed to the pillow?" He asked wondering why she went to the trouble of changing her pillow case every night.
"Because it doesn't match the rest of my pillow cases, or bed linen. It's just to keep my hair nice, in case I don't tie it up." He tilted his head to the side indicating that he didn't fully understand, and she sat him down to explain what she meant. Their conversation rolled on, changing subjects several times, and before they knew it, Abbie rested her head at the top of the bed, while Ichabod rested his at the bottom.
"Lieutenant,"
"Yes," she answered softly.
"I am very happy…that you are home." He whispered.
She gently bit her bottom lip. "So am I." she paused for a moment before speaking again. "Ichabod?"
"Yes?" He responded quietly, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling.
Abbie hesitated briefly before asking. "Was Katrina your first?" The question took him by surprise a bit, but he responded after a few seconds.
"She was not."
"Oh." She says softly rolling unto her side so it's easier to see him at the foot of the bed. He does the same so he can see her as well.
"So," she continues, "Were there many others."
"I suppose it would depend on what you consider many. Why do you ask?"
"I was just wondering if you thought of them as…women of ill repute." She said.
"Abbie." He sat up, concerned that she was once again believed he thought her to be a woman of ill repute.
"No, not like that, I understand what you were trying to say earlier. You delivery was completely fucked up, but I understand. I just really wonder what you thought of them, back then." She stated.
Ichabod furrowed his brows, looking in her direction, but he seemed to almost look through her for a moment. "I merely thought that some of them were young, as I was and sought to have enjoy themselves, as I did. Some others I recall were older than I, but were unlucky in that they were still far too young to have become widows." He didn't care to discuss past flames with her. The connection they shared dwarfed his former relationships with women, somehow even his marriage to Katrina. It made him uncomfortable to think of it.
"Did you love any of them?" she asked.
"No. There were a few whose company I enjoyed, but it was not love."
"Until Katrina?"
"Until Katrina." He repeated laying back down. They stopped speaking and within the half hour he could hear Abbie, falling asleep.
He tilted his head looking down at her, taken by how much he loved her, he wanted all too desperately to crawl under the blankets with her, and hold her through the night. He rose from her bed, before any more thoughts had a chance to settle. He knew that he could not stay. Ichabod walked around to her side of the bed, standing over her.
"You heading to bed." She asks, temporarily breaking from her slumber.
"I am." He whispered, peering down on her, and what a sight she was. Curls splayed across her pillow, eyes heavy, chasing the promise of sleep, and those lips. The ones that touched his face, with a warm and soft tenderness he never knew existed. Before he realized what he was doing he'd sat upon the edge of her bed leaning slightly over her.
"Abbie, I am sorry I hurt you." He whispered. He'd apologized earlier, but he felt the need to do it again. He needed her to understand how important she was to him, even if he couldn't reveal the nature of those feelings. Abbie barely opened her eyes, but could hear the sincerity in his voice.
"I know." She replied faintly.
"I thought you should know that you were the prettiest of them all tonight." He said.
"Oh Crane," she covered a gentle yawn before continuing, "You're so sweet."
He smiled watching as she slipped into her dreams. "Sleep well Abbie." He said brushing her hair from her forehead with his thumb. He couldn't help bending to lay a soft kiss against her temple.
Ichabod walked into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He placed his palms flat against it, telling himself to leave it closed. After he'd placed a kiss to her forehead, he had an incredible urge to wake, and keep kissing her. He retreated from her room as quickly as possible, but the urge never left him, it beckoned him even now. He needed to talk with her, about the dance, about everything really, but earlier the timing seemed all wrong. Her kiss as innocent as it may have been, awakened something in him, he wanted, more. He wanted her. He sat at the foot of his bed and began disrobing, remembering how perfect her lips felt against his cheek. He sighed touching the very spot they made impact. He wondered what they would feel like traipsing across other parts of his body. He tried to focus his thoughts on Katrina, but somehow Abbie kept commanding his full attention. After adjusting himself, as he often did when he thought of Abbie, he pulled back his blankets and slid into bed. He could still smell her scent on his pillow from where she'd slept only the night before. He lay there thinking of her, imagining a universe where he was free to love her as he did. After a while, his dreams came to find him, and as such, so did she.
The next afternoon Abbie awoke feeling like a million bucks. She thought for sure she would have had a hangover, but she was curiously energized. The sun beamed through her window, as the curtains rustled ever so slightly. She sat up in her bed and briefly listened to the tunes the birds hummed, smiling at the day the Lord created. She had been up until after 5am talking with Ichabod. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt for not keeping a better eye on him, for hitting him, and kissing him. Shit, I let him get high, I'm a terrible friend, she thought. She eventually shook it off, what are you gonna do, shit happens. A chill slid down her spine as she remembered the way he had touched her the night before. He held her like she belonged to him on the dance floor, without begging forgiveness or asking permission.
When she came downstairs she could hear Ichabod singing. She stood just outside of the kitchen leaning her back against the wall I tried to muffle her giggles.
"4am and my lover won't ahhnswer, probably somewhere with a dahhncer hmm hmmm, while I am in his bed." He sang
After a few moments she slipped her head around the corner wearing an ever so sly grin. He stood over the stove cooking, but turned as he heard her enter.
"Miss Mills." His eyes twinkled. He couldn't help but notice the expression she wore across her face. "Are you spying on me?"
Abbie tried to straighten her face "Absolutely not." Ichabod looked at her in disbelief. Her giggles came spilling out, she held up her thumb and pointer finger to indicate a small amount,
"A little."
"Are Jenny and Irving up yet?" She asked.
"Yes, they left a short while ago to go for breakfast, and retrieve the vehicle."
"Oh, I'm shocked you didn't go with them, it's not like you to pass up food." She stated pulling the orange juice from the refrigerator.
He looked down at her "I thought they wished to be alone, and I would…rather take repast with you."
Abbie eyes met his as he sat her plate in front of her. "This looks really good, Crane, thank you."
Abbie took a bite of her blueberry pancakes, closing her eyes and moaning quietly. He would make her pancakes every day for the rest of his life, if she would make that noise.
He sat beside her and dug into his own plate. Abbie breathed a sigh of relief. After last night she was worried things would be awkward between her and Ichabod, but their breakfast conversation was full of their usual banter. They had gotten a little touchy feely before bed, and that's not even considering what transpired during their dance. She was happy that it was forgotten. Besides, there was no use in deliberating over insignificant little events that don't matter in the grand scheme of things. Katrina was Ichabod's wife, and he had sworn to her that they would be reunited, Abbie knew that he was a man of his word, and they would. After breakfast though, things quickly came to a head. The pair began cleaning the dishes, and Abbie could feel Ichabod's eyes on her, but every time she looked at him he turned away. After the third time this happened she finally said something.
"What?"
Ichabod sheepishly averted his eyes. "Nothing" he said drying a plate and putting it away. He closed the cabinet and turned slowly to face her.
"Rather, I thought perhaps….do you think we should talk?" He asked setting the remaining plates on the countertop.
"About what?"
Ichabod took a step towards her "About last night." Abbie stared at him somewhat puzzled. It wasn't just what he said, but the way he said it, with gravity in his tone, alerting her to the importance of the subject for him. He often sounded that way, when there was a serious matter they needed to discuss.
"I thought we already settled everything, remember, we talked, all was forgiven."
"We did," he agreed, now standing directly over her. "Settle some things…and yet…" He took a breath as if he needed it to continue, "I hoped to speak with you regarding the dance we shared."
Abbie stood there in disbelief, unsure how to react to what was happening. She looked out of the window over the sink horrified. In a brief moment if felt like she was back on the dance floor, his wrists crossed around her waist, pulling her against him. Her head resting upon his chest, as her name slipped from his mouth, but it seemed to come from somewhere much deeper inside of him. She recalled thinking as he held her that way, that his arms simultaneously felt like the safest and most terrifying place she'd ever been. She wanted to run, but also, she wanted to stay. He was high at the time, and she didn't think he would ever bring it up, but here they were.
She kept her eyes fixed upon the outdoors, realizing everything around her, around them was rapidly changing. And she wasn't ready. These were the types of talks that could change the dynamic of a friendship, of a relationship, and she wasn't ready for them to stop being…..them. She knew that something was wrong, that lines had gotten blurred, but she had no idea of how to unblur them. It wasn't that she was in complete denial, Jenny knew, so she reasoned that at least one other soul knew how deeply she loved the man next to her, all of him. But she wasn't ready to tell him that, because once she did, she couldn't take it back, there is no way to unring the bell. What if he didn't feel the same? What good could possible come if he did?
The possible outcomes were varied, life altering, and heavy, and she would have to live with them. It was approximately 11:43 am, on a Sunday that was preceded by a week that had already taken a lot out of her, and she couldn't do life altering, and heavy right now. She just wanted to just be Abbie, a girl who loved justice, music, and oversized individually packaged dill pickles. A quiet, observant girl, who sometimes warred against demons. And she just wanted to spend the day with her friend Ichabod, who loved liberty, books, and eating massive amounts of powdered doughnut holes. A shy, magnificent, man who, as it happened, also warred against demons. Because those are the things we most often remember, loves, and wars, and pickles and doughnuts, the sour and sweet. Everything else seems to fall to the wayside of our memories, cast aside and forgotten like a gift card with a two cent balance. But if you're lucky, every once in a while someone comes along who makes all the tiny in-between moments special and worthy of recollection. And he did that for her. So just for today she wanted to sit in the in-between with him, and play chess while listening to something soft and sweet, and that was enough. In her mind talking about last night was the equivalent to opening a door, she wasn't ready to walk through, and she didn't know how to close.
"I don't." she said after a minute.
"I beg your pardon?" Ichabod questioned confused.
"–Think we should talk, I mean," Abbie glanced up at him "I don't think we should talk about last night….I," Abbie briefly considered giving further explanation, but decided against it. "Just don't." She ultimately decided furrowing her eyebrows.
"I see." Ichabod responded trying to guise the disappointment dripping from his face.
"It's been a long week, can we just play chess?" She asked.
Ichabod stared at Abbie for what felt like a few seconds too long before responding. She was running from their issues, and he couldn't decide if he should allow her, or give chase. He knew her pattern well. Whenever there was something bothering her that she didn't want to discuss, they played chess. She hid behind horses and pawns, and bishops and rooks, until she was so immersed in the game she forgot what she was hiding from.
"Very well." He replied somberly hanging the dry towel over the sink.