It's been so long, y'all. Sorry for the wait. This is the last chapter. I am ready to finish this story, so that I can work on my other Ichabbie projects, like Brownies and a new AU fic I thought of. Lol :) I need this to end. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying this story. It was fun to write. It was different. Some of the chapters aren't perfect looking back at it, but I really liked experimenting with this little fic. So thank you, thank you, thank you for the support and being open to reading it. More Ichabbie stories to come. :) A pretty short chapter, but hopefully a good wrap-up. Also, check out "Pillow Talk" in 100 Words if you haven't. I really want to know what you all think. Thank you. :)

After three more months in Quantico, Abbie decided to come home. She missed Sleepy Hollow too much and all the people in it, especially her sister and Crane. During her time in Quantico; he mailed her a key to his apartment; she unlocked the door and stood in the doorway with her suitcase beside her. He ran to her, scooped her off her feet. Her legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed her hair.

"How was your flight?" he said.

"Way too long," she said into his shoulder.

"Are you going to go back?"

She squeezed him tighter. "Probably not. Too much distance."

They looked at each other while Abbie's fingers played in his hair. She kissed his forehead. Crane missed her a lot. He got back home months before she did. Had no idea what to do except clean and read and grade papers and clean and read and grade papers. He was happy to have her back.

"You can return if you want to."

He'd let her go in a split second if that's what she wanted, though he'd miss her. She shook her head.

"Not right now. I want to stay here for a while. I may go help out during the weekends from time to time. That's it for now. Enjoy your last lecture?"

He nodded. "Quite."

"How are your students?"

"Good." He kissed her. "I'd rather not talk about my students or Quantico at the moment."

"Close the door, Crane."

He put her down, dragged her suitcase in, and shut the door. She kissed him before he could say anything. He picked her up again, held her against the door. His lips sucked her neck. She sighed. He smelled like wood, her favorite scent on him. As he kissed her skin, she couldn't respond to anything he did. Flashes of their time together bounced in front of her opened eyes: them in the church, at Maggie's, at the park, at the graveyard, at their jobs, in her secret closet, everywhere in his apartment. She thought about their conversations: the good ones, the uncomfortable ones, the hard ones. And their first time, their first kiss, the first prayer, their first date. Everything hit her. She really did miss him: his smirks, his morning whistling, his need for tea. Whatever was Ichabod Crane.

"Are you alright?" he said.

She nodded, melded their foreheads together. "Thank you for being my husband, for what you've taught me, your openness, your gentleness. I'm very grateful."

She loved him and didn't regret anything that happened between them. Their relationship would grow, which excited her. She couldn't wait.

He smiled at her. "God couldn't have given me a better wife. You've become a part of my soul."

She's been better in her faith, although not all the way there. Her and Crane even sometimes read the Bible together. She still didn't understand all sorts of stuff in it, but that was okay. She took it day by day. God did know what He was doing when He sent her Ichabod Crane.

"Where do these words come from sometimes?"

"You know where, Abbie."

She touched his cheeks. "I like your heart."

"Yours is just as beautiful."

She unbuttoned what she could of his sweater, kissed down his neck. He let her down, so they could unclothe each other. Then he picked her back up. His fingers swam in her. Oh, did she miss this. Plenty of nights passed when this was all she could think about. Now, she had it. Her head rested on the door; she moaned. He held the skin of her neck between his teeth. His fingers worked. It didn't matter that the door was cool on her back.

A small gasp sprung from her mouth while he stuffed himself into her. She watched his eyes close; he was remembering her. Her legs clutched around him some more. Her eyes and ears stayed open to catch the quick blink of his eyes, the breathy grunt from his lungs. She missed this about him and gripped his shoulders. Their foreheads fell together; she croaked when he poked himself a little further. His pupils dilated. She saw it all there and what he tried to communicate with his thrust.

"Abbie… I…"

She climaxed before she could hear him say it. He was right behind her seconds later. His forehead landed in her neck's crook; his warm and heavy breath felt good. She rubbed her hands through his hair, spoke near his ear.

"I love you, too, Ichabod."

This was another first she'd remember.