The next morning found Ichabod very irritable. Well, more irritable than usual. He'd slept little the previous night only to have Alfred awaken him before it was even light out.

Presently, he was sitting against a tree, brooding, as they waited for Katrina's arrival. Alfred was standing off to the side thankfully leaving him be. He felt slightly guilty for berating the man. Every time he opened his mouth, it seemed a snide remark would make its way out. His mood simply could not be helped at this point. It was ridiculous, he knew, but Katrina had always been some sort of dream to him. After she'd departed from England, he'd tried to make other friends, find a new place in the world, but his classmates would have little to do with him.

They'd all disliked him from the very beginning, what with his father being a respected professor. The absurd idea they all held about him was that he thought himself better and smarter than they, granted with his eidetic memory, he considered the latter to be true, but he desperately tried to deflate that idea. His attempts, however, never reached fruition. Especially considering the fact that his father often paid visits to his school to complain about some rule or another.

Katrina was the only person who'd ever bothered with him. Her friendship only cemented his classmates dislike for him as Katrina was the only other person in school more intensely disliked than he simply because she wouldn't go along with their antics. Her constant need to protect everyone and everything had made her an easy target for bullying. He supposed that he became even more caught in the crosshairs and, in turn, became like a leper to them.

Most of his days were spent in his room studying, much to his father's approval. His mother would try to coax him out, but he would rarely agree.

In his teen years, he'd discovered girls weren't your buddies, not that he had had any to begin with. He'd often wondered what Katrina would be like if she were with him. If her hair and clothes would have become more important than their friendship. Imagining her wearing the sorts of clothes the other young ladies wore had often caused a blush to form over his features as he'd imagined she would be even more beautiful than they.

His first kiss had been when he was sixteen. Clara Sanders. She had been a pretty enough girl. Dark hair and light eyes. His mind had fumbled all over the place as he attempted to kiss her right. The whole experience had been rather awkward.

Other kisses had come and gone, and Katrina had eventually become a distant memory as his studies became more important.

But today, knowing her again. Every longing feeling he'd had rushed back into him. She was absolutely the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Hope had filled him and that kiss they'd shared had fulfilled almost every dream he'd ever had. That is, until her confession had brought them all crashing to the ground. She was engaged, belonged to someone else. It was unimaginable for him. He'd always thought of her as his.

"Ichabod?

His gaze jerked up to find Katrina standing in front of him.

Utterly horrified that she'd caught him crying, he wiped at his face. "What are you doing here?"

Her small body dropped down next to his. "I was coming to see if you wanted to play."

He kicked at a small lizard that ran across the step. "I don't."

"Ok."

He rolled his eyes at the sadness in her voice. "I don't feel like playing, Katrina."

A noise came from behind his door. "Ichabod! Where are you? Get back here this instant! I'm not done speaking with you!"

Quickly, he reached for Katrina's hand, pulling her down the steps and into the alley beside his house.

The front door to his house opened and he peeked to see his father step out, look around, then return back inside.

Releasing a relieved breath, he plopped to the ground.

"Is your father mad at you again?"

Not looking at her, he nodded. "He's always mad at me."

She sat beside him. "I'm sorry. I wish he would be nicer to you. I hate it when you're upset. It makes me sad."

Glancing at her, he smiled. "You want to go play?"

A bright smile lit her face as she jumped up and grabbed his hand. "Yes!"

"Katrina. Good."

Alfred's voice brought him back to the present.

Glancing up, he saw her approach. How he wished she would just once appear undesirable to him. This morning even her beauty irritated him.

She paused as she gazed at the Reverend.

"Is everything alright, Alfred?"

"Yes, yes everything's fine." The man was clearly lying. Ichabod knew he had him on edge. "Shall we, Mr. Crane?"

Glaring, he tilted his head. "Do I have a choice?"

The man look pleadingly at Katrina.

Fixing him with a pointed look, she spoke. "If you'd rather sit there and wait for a demon to come along and claim you, then be my guest."

She took off in the direction he assumed they were heading, while nodding for Alfred to follow her.

Rolling his eyes, he stood and began to follow.

They travelled for hours without speaking. It was rather difficult for Ichabod as he quite enjoyed speaking. Now, more than ever, he regretted his choice to be so rude toward the Reverend. The man seemed to have a vast knowledge from which Ichabod could have picked at. Instead, he found his eyes fixed on her back as she walked. She had yet to acknowledge him again since threatening to leave him, not even to glance back to see if he was, in fact, following them.

The journey took two days and they rested very little, but finally, they reached their destination. Upon meeting Commander Washington, Ichabod found himself impressed. Washington was a rather tall man and Ichabod thought him to be extremely interesting. He enjoyed having someone that was intelligent enough to converse with him on certain issues, something he'd been lacking as of late since leaving England.

Once they were all acquainted, Ichabod was shown to his tent.

He was aware that the time for Katrina and Alfred to leave was fast approaching and he was unaware when he'd see her again, or if he even would.

Stepping outside, he found Alfred speaking with a few soldiers.

Trying to think of a way to ask about her whereabouts without seeming overly eager to find her, he was saved when Alfred spoke before he could, not even glancing at him.

"She's down by the stream."

Nodding his thanks, Ichabod began in that direction.

When he found her at the water's edge, he took a deep breath before settling beside her.

They remained silent for quite some time before he finally choked down his pride.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't look at him as she slightly shook her head. "There's no need to apologize."

Unable to help himself, he reached for her hand. "Yes, there is."

Finding it easier to look at her hand in his than her eyes, he distracted himself by running his fingers along hers. "I just found you again and I don't want to lose you as my friend."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her observing their hands as well. "You won't. You'll always be my friend, Ichabod. My best friend."

Smiling, he posed a question. "Have I thanked you yet?"

"For what?"

Finally bringing his gaze up to meet hers, he took in her curious expression. "For saving me."

She shrugged her shoulders. "The demon wasn't that terrible."

"That's not what I meant." At her look of confusion, he continued, "You saved me from an ordinary existence. I was going through the motions, living the life that was set before me. You gave me the opportunity to choose my own path. So, thank you. You've forever changed my life."

She looked back out over the water. "I'm glad. I was afraid you would resent me, maybe even hate me for forcing you on this path."

"I could never hate you, Katrina." After a moment, he spoke again. "When will I see you again?"

"I'm not sure. The Commander will keep you very busy and I have much to attend to in the coming months."

"Yes, your wedding," he whispered lowly.

She shook her head. "It's not a choice I made for myself, but one that was made for me. If I had any choice in the matter, I'd..."

Her words fell away with a sigh.

Not really wanting to know, but asking anyway, "Is he a good man?"

Her eyes came back to his, seemingly considering him for a moment. "He is. While, I don't know much of him personally, in the few conversations I've had with him, he seems to be anyway. He likes to show his wealth and brag quite a bit, but... I suppose I would call him a good man."

"Good, I'd hate to have to end him for being cruel to you."

A small smile crept into her features as she lightly squeezed his hand. "Always my protector."

He chuckled. "As I recall, I do believe it was you that did all the protecting. Though, in my defense, you did have an unfair advantage."

Her hair fell into her view as she laughed. "A minor detail."

Reaching up, he tucked it back behind her ear. "I feel safe when I'm with you, and happy. I've not experienced much happiness in my life that didn't include you. You made my childhood bearable."

He wanted to kiss her again. It was a deep want that he knew he could not have.

Instead, he settled for leaning forward, placing his face in the crook of her neck and breathing in her scent, allowing it to make a home in his memory. "I don't want to be parted from you again."

For a moment, he thought he might have overstepped again, but then her hand slid up to hold his face in place, her lips ghosting across his cheek. "This won't be the last time we see each other, Ichabod. I promise."

It was a promise he intended to see her keep.