Winner Takes All - Chapter 11
AU: Spoilers up through Season 2 finale, ignores Orion arc so Katrina doesn't free Headless to escape him. Ignores Season 3.
AN: Standard Disclaimer! I own nothing (though I would love to get Abraham for a while...)
Big thanks to my Beta-Readers RS73 and Bittenfeld!
Inspiration Soundtrack: "Serial Killer" - Lana Del Rey
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Of course the others wouldn't let it go.
No sooner had Abbie and Abraham entered the house when the beam of headlights swept across the living room.
The Horseman reflexively grasped his weapon, but paused when Mills touched his arm.
"Abbie?" Jenny called while using her key to open the front door, Ichabod close on her heels.
Abraham's irritation was evident, but Crane ignored him.
"What are you two doing here?"
"To ask if you have taken leave of your sen—"
"Crane!" Jenny gave a quick glance at the looming Horseman. "We wanted to make sure you were ok."
"I said I was fine, you don't have to worry about me." Abbie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose against the beginnings of a headache. "But since you're all here, we might as well have dinner."
"Dinner?"
"Yes, Crane. I'm starving. The kidnappers didn't exactly ask me what I wanted for my last meal."
The scholar flushed, his expression a conflicting mix of anger, fear and regret.
Mills pulled a pizza from the freezer and set the oven to pre-heat. Thirty minutes to melted cheese and pepperoni heaven left plenty of time for the other necessities.
"When it beeps, the pizza can go in the oven. Meanwhile, I'm going to go take a shower. Can you all promise not to kill each other until I get back?"
Abbie didn't wait for the inevitable protests, just headed for the master bedroom. She rolled her eyes as Abraham's heavy footsteps followed behind her. She expected more trouble out of the Horseman, but he simply took up a sentry post at the doorway when she gave him a look.
"I will be waiting for you," he said with a smile full of dark promises.
A spike of heat ran through her body, but she couldn't afford to be distracted. "Shower," Abbie chanted under her breath as she closed the door. "Shower, shower, shower, shower first."
She heard Abraham's chuckle through the solid wood.
Twenty short minutes later, Abbie was clean and feeling more like herself. A fresh pair of jeans and a lavender scoop-necked t-shirt slipped over her matching underthings like armor. Self-consciously, she pulled the shirt down farther to hide the newest of her scars. Abbie had stared at it for a long time in the bathroom mirror, letting her fingers run over the star-shaped mark that linked her with the Horseman of Death. The weight of what it might mean was more than she was able to face just yet.
Abbie checked herself in the mirror for the tenth time and took a deep breath.
She opened the door to see Abraham, still vigilant in his promise to guard her room. The angry scowl on his face melted when he met her eyes. "They are arguing about us," was all he said.
"Let them," Abbie replied, trying to smother the glittering spark that bloomed at how he said 'us'. She grasped the Horseman's wrist and dragged him into her bedroom.
She saw his surprised smirk and shook her head. "No, no, don't get any ideas. You are covered in over two hundred years of God knows what. You are not doing anything else before you get cleaned up."
"You think that I have not bathed since I arose?"
"If you don't use oatmeal body-wash and a loofah, it doesn't count."
Abraham watched her with amusement as she explained how to use the various knobs and potions in the gleaming white lavatory. He missed some of what she said when she bent over to adjust the water temperature. It took all of his self-control not to run his hands over the enticing swell of her curves.
The Horseman had his revenge when she turned to see him finish the last row of buttons and slowly remove his shirt.
It was several long moments before Abbie was able to tear her gaze away from the sculpted torso. Her fingers itched to touch the battle scars that wrote the violent story of his past. "Towels. Towels are to…towel." She held a piece of plush cloth up like a shield.
"Eloquent," Abraham said with a devastating grin. Seeing his effect on her made him feel coltish, even downright playful. It was a strange sensation after centuries wracked with only pain and fury.
The Horseman watched her try to gather up her wits and give him a haughty look of her own, determined to not let him get under her skin. Her bravado was short lived.
He nearly laughed as she bolted from the room when he reached for the buttons on his trousers.
Safely outside, with the bathroom door closed between them, Abbie could think once more.
She took a few cleansing breaths and then dug out the bag of clothing she had originally bought for Crane. Though her attempts to update the scholar's wardrobe had been thwarted, she was now thankful that she had not returned the garments.
Abbie went to the bathroom door and listened to the running water to make sure Abraham was still occupied. Slowly, she opened the door just enough to stick her arm in and place the clean clothes on the counter.
Afterward, Mills groped around blindly to collect up Abraham's old clothes; stuffing them into the shopping bag for later. She had no illusions about the Horseman wanting to get rid of his uniform, so she hoped the cleaner would be able to get out the bloodstains.
Satisfied she had all of the pieces, Abbie snatched her hand back and closed the door. She felt like a child trying to jump into bed before the monsters could reach out from underneath and gobble her up.
A key difference was that this particular boogie-man likely had other plans if he caught her...
Abbie knew she couldn't stall any longer. Taking a last fortifying breath, she left the security of her room to face the music.
Ichabod paced the room angrily. "This is intolerable!"
Jenny glanced over at him as she checked the pizza to make sure it was cooking evenly. "Which part?"
"All of it! Are you not outraged by this—this—"
"I admit that it still freaks me out a little, but I guess it isn't all that surprising."
"'Surprising'?" Shock curdled Ichabod's handsome face. "You...you knew! It is how you were sure he would track Abigail down! Just how long has this affair been going on?"
"It's been building a while, I think. The signs were all there, Crane. You were too busy with Katrina to notice them."
Ichabod fell silent at the mention of his wife. He shook his head, trying to clear the array of memories that assailed him. Most of all, he wanted to erase the feeling of her blood on his hands.
He rallied to the current cause as a distraction. "You did not think to mention these…suspicions to me earlier?
"What would you have done? Tried to keep her away from him?" Jenny snorted. "You know Abbie, how well do you think that would have gone over? She's her own woman, she makes her own choices."
"I am well aware of that. However, now she is indebted to Abraham. There is no predicting what it is he will require from her in return."
"I think it's rather clear what he wants."
"Surely, she cannot be serious in thinking that he desires her friendship!"
"Friendship would be putting it mildly," Jenny muttered, her gaze narrowing as she watched Crane's reaction. "That's really what this is about, isn't it?"
Crane looked hunted. "What do you mean?"
"I think you know exactly what I mean."
"She is my fellow Witness, I worry about her safety. Our roles are too important for the future of humanity," he said weakly. "Besides, how…how can she even consider-He is the Horseman of Death! A Harbinger of the Apocalypse. He has murdered countless innocents, including your Sheriff Corbin!"
"And his ticket will get punched for that, trust me," Jenny's eyes were like chips of black ice. "I'm not happy about this either, but it isn't exactly unprecedented. Abbie hasn't had the best luck with men."
Crane looked startled and then thoughtful. "You are referring to Officer Morales? I suspected that they had been...intimate, but she never spoke of what transpired between them."
Jenny's expression darkened further. "It's her business. If she wants to talk to you about it, that's her choice. All I'll say is that there are still times I question why I didn't put a bullet in him for what happened."
"Oh...I did not realize they were so deeply involved."
"Abbie was."
Crane digested the unspoken implication. He had believed he had grown to know the leftenant well enough in their time together, but now he was beginning to wonder...
Silence fell as the companions drifted into their own thoughts.
Jenny shook off the quiet first. "Anyway, unorthodox as it might have been, Abraham did what we asked."
"Are we quite sure of that?"
"My sister is safe and now we know about Pestilence," Jenny frowned. "I'm taking the win for what it is. We can deal with the rest later."
"You have said that before. Yet how many more will die while we wait for later?" Crane ran his hands through his long hair in agitation. "While he was our prisoner, Abraham could be controlled. Now he is free to reconnect with his demonic compatriots and do any manner of evil deeds. He could hurt or kill Abigail. The consequences of his release are on our heads!"
"Maybe," Jenny chewed her lip, a movement so reminiscent of her sister it made Ichabod's chest ache. "But Abbie is right: if the Horseman had wanted her dead, he could have left her to bleed out on the floor. Why would he save her now, just to kill her later?"
Crane opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when his Leftenant emerged from the bedroom. Light sparkled in the drops of water still caught in her hair and the lilac blouse left a long expanse of her neck visible. He had to drag his eyes back to her face through sheer force of will.
"You know he can hear you, right?" she grumbled.
His blood already running hot with anger, the added catalyst of desire nearly pushed Ichabod over the edge. "Good!"
"And my neighbors probably can, too. It's late! We already have enough trouble on our hands without someone calling the cops for a noise complaint, especially with Reyes in control. If you don't settle down, I'm kicking you both out."
"It's fine, we were just discussing the newest…recruit."
Crane scoffed, resuming his furious pacing.
"Look, I know Abraham has been…"Abbie trailed off, unwilling to focus too much on how crazy it sounded to be defending a monster. "Anyway, let's just see how things go. We trapped him before, we can do it again if things go sideways. We're all we have, we need allies. A Horseman on our side would be a crazy powerful one."
"Agreed," Jenny asked, her eyes serious. "But, are you really sure about him, Abbie?"
The older Mills sister heaved a deep sigh, running her hands through her drying hair. "Honestly? I'm still trying to figure that out myself. But he's much more than what we thought—"
"Oh yes, he's an arrogant blowhard—"
"Crane."
"No! I will not be silent on this. I knew him when he was alive-"
"And you were friends. What makes you think that if Katrina hadn't come between you that you wouldn't still be friends?"
Abbie gave Ichabod a hard stare as he struggled with something he obviously wanted to say, but her attention was diverted by the sound of the shower turning off.
"Look, I need to go check on…I'll be back," she said before returning to the bedroom.
Abbie openly gawked at the blond god standing near her bed.
Muscles rippled across Abraham's back like hidden serpents under his pale skin as he held up the T-shirt. A scowl tugged at his lips as he tested the stretch of the cotton fabric.
"Do you expect these garments to fit?"
The button fly jeans were a little too short and a bit tight across his rider's thighs, but she was having trouble complaining about the view. The cotton boxers she had left him were still on the bed.
"I…uh…wasn't expecting to have house guests. You sort of caught me unprepared."
"And yet you have a man's clothing readily at hand?"
"What?" His tone cleared Abbie's daze instantly. "Just what are you implying?"
The Horseman turned the full force of his attention on her, pale eyes dangerous like a storm. "I have had trouble with rival suitors before, I have no wish to repeat the past."
"I get that."
Abraham advanced on her, a predator in every sense of the word. Intimidated more than she wanted to admit, Abbie took an involuntary step backward and hit the closed door. As she tried to turn the knob to escape, he placed his large hands on either side of her head to hold the door firmly shut.
Unless he decided to let her go or she called to the others, she might as well have tried to move a mountain.
"I will suffer no other men in your bed, do you understand? You will be mine, and mine alone."
"You think I'm that easy that I would just sleep with anyone?"
"I think you are a strong woman who is accustomed to getting whatever she desires."
The compliment delivered as an accusation threw Abbie off, but she recovered quickly. "Maybe, but let's get something straight: I only date one man at a time. Period. So, if we're together, then that's it. You and me."
Distrust laced his expression and she couldn't really blame him. Abraham had been betrayed at one point or another by all of the people closest to him, despite their promises to the contrary.
Still, his remark had struck a nerve and pissed her off. She wasn't going to take it lying down.
Abbie went on the attack by stepping forward, deeper into his personal space. She bared her teeth in open challenge. ""What about you, Van Brunt? Were you loyal or did you play the field while you were engaged to Katrina?"
The Horseman's angry glare narrowed.
"If you want this to work, you need to give as good as you get. So here's the deal: if you want me to be yours, then you better offer up the same. You become mine and only mine."
The arrogance borne of noble upbringing flickered in his expression for a heartbeat. "Bargains are best kept when the parties are even. You are human, I am not. Where is the balance in that?"
"Nobody is perfect."
He loomed over Abbie, blocking out the light and sealing her in his shadow. "You forget that I am no longer chained, I could simply take what I wished from you."
"You wouldn't."
"Would I not?"
"You're an honorable man, not a thug," she hissed. "You've heard my terms, deal or no deal?"
He scowled harder.
Abbie watched a muscle twitch in his jaw as she waited for his answer. When he remained silent, she felt something turn brittle inside her chest. "I see..."
Abraham's eyes squeezed shut, his shoulders rigid.
"You know what? Fine, whatever." She hated how weak her voice suddenly sounded, like some pathetic girl in a cheesy romance movie. She needed to stay angry and hold onto the rage when everything in her soul just wanted to collapse. She tried to bite back the disappointed tears that burned like acid. "Fuck. What is it about me that men can't...? Am I...am I just not enough? Is that it?"
Blue eyes flew back open, the menace from moments earlier washed away in a flood of genuine alarm. "No! Abigail, that is not…"
Abbie felt his left hand cup her face, stroking away the wetness from her cheek but she was too startled by his reaction to move.
"I am a Horseman. I carry the knowledge of every Rider before me and not one has found someone who could look past their armor to see the man inside. You...I would have pledged myself to you, even if you had not asked. But I am a Horseman," he repeated. "My life may not be my own to give."
She stared up at the naked honesty in his face, the faint shine of his own tears made the glass of her heart crack further.
"Despite the depth and strength of my affection, I...I cannot grant you the happiness that you truly deserve." He began to withdraw, misery making his entire frame droop under the weight.
She grasped his hand, stopping him.
"I guess we'll just have to work with what we've got then." She sniffled once more, then nodded with renewed determination. "I said before that you were stuck with me. I meant it."
Abraham blinked in surprise, then a rare smile bloomed on his face. He leaned over to bring his forehead down to hers, close enough that his loose hair would have brushed her face if it had been more than illusion. "You are a truly a woman of unparalleled nature."
Her sudden blush flashed hot. "Well, you know...can't have too many people like me around. We might band together, take over the world, outlaw morning meetings."
"I can think of worse fates."
"Yeah," Abbie sobered. "I guess so."
"Whatever the future may have in store for us, I will find it at your side." The Horseman looked deeply into her eyes, his voice hushed and reverent in the dimness. "I, Abraham Alexander Van Brunt, swear that I will court only you, Grace Abigail Mills, as long as your heart remains true to mine."
He watched his words soften the distrustful wrinkle in her brow as she searched his face for any signs of deception. Seeing none, she squared her shoulders as fresh tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. "Then I, uh...I, Grace Abigail Mills, promise that I will allow no other men t-to court me, as long as you, Abraham Alexander Van Brunt, remain true to me, too."
He sighed, as if her halting words had unlocked something in his own chest. For the first time Abraham looked truly relaxed and more like she imagined he had been centuries earlier before he died.
He looked content.
"Sounds so official," Abbie teased, her own giddiness threatening to overwhelm the serious moment. "Should we tell the others of the happy announcement?"
The Horseman's grin became something more. "Not just yet."
Heat rushed across her face and pooled in her belly as she caught his meaning.
Abraham ran his thumb over her soft lips. "I have never wished for anything in my life so much as to be able to kiss you right now."
"Just kiss?"
His deep chuckle was ragged. "Propriety dictates that we must remain chaste until our wedding."
"Wedding?" The word was like a cold bath. Even though Abbie had accepted his offer to 'court' her, the idea that he would want to legitimately propose hadn't really crossed her mind.
"I will not have you slandered for being with me out of wedlock. I have every intention to make you an 'honest woman', as they say."
"You're the Headless Horseman of Death, is my reputation really what you're worried about?"
"It is all the more reason to conduct myself above reproach in matters that concern you."
The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about them: "Social rules aren't so strict anymore."
"Truly?" the flare of lust in his eyes took her breath away. "Then you would not be offended if I said I would find it nearly impossible to wait that long in any event?"
It irritated her that he could be so eloquent while she was having trouble focusing beyond the next heartbeat. Coils of desire were tightening inside Abbie like a python and her mouth continued to have a will of its own. "'Wait'? I think we'd be lucky if we made it out of this house before I rip those jeans off of you."
Abraham grinned down at the petite woman, clearly pleased with her answer.
Smug bastard, she thought. Fine, two can play that game.
Abbie's tongue darted out to lick the finger still on her lips, making his breath catch.
Encouraged by his reaction, she took the digit fully into her mouth to suck on it gently.
"Abi..." A tremor ran though the Horseman's frame, making the wooden door creak where his free hand still held it closed.
Letting his thumb go with a final light raking of her teeth, Abbie leaned forward into the heat of his body. The planes of his chest were like living steel under her fingertips and she mapped them slowly an inch at a time. The scars were rough to the touch, but they did little to take away from the perfection of his form. She was trailing light kisses across his heart when she felt his control finally crumble.
He pressed her back against the door, letting his right hand move to join the left as it slid down her neck. Calluses from battle drew goose bumps on her dark skin.
She looked up to see that the blue of his eyes had nearly drowned in black.
The Horseman's hands were on her shoulders and suddenly Abbie's shirt became an annoyance. "Wait," she said, grabbing the hem of her blouse to pull it off. He was loathed to release his grip, but the brief loss of contact was worth it.
She felt him pause as he took in the sight of her. Nervous and suddenly regretting being so exposed, Abbie tried to cover the new scar with her hand. Abraham gripped her wrist firmly to stop her. She flicked a glance up to see his serious expression.
"You are truly beautiful."
"Even with..."
"You could never be anything but perfect to me," he said reverently, lifting her chin with a finger. "Do not ever doubt that."
"Oh," Abbie blushed. "Well you're, uh, pretty beautiful yourself."
His teeth were very white in the dark as he smiled.
Abraham slipped his fingers under the creamy silk of her bra strap and let it guide him down to the fullness of her breast.
Her breathing hitched as his thumb stroked across her nipple, springing it tight with excitement.
Tingles raced across her body wherever he touched, making her attention narrow down to only the feeling of his hands on her skin.
Abraham shuddered as her own fingers returned to wander across his stomach, following the hills and valleys of muscle down to the edge of his jeans.
"Abigail..." The raw need on his voice made the muscles clench deep in her belly.
Abbie muffled a shriek against his shoulder as she was suddenly lifted from the floor and tossed onto the bed. Before she could scramble away, Abraham set his knees between her thighs and pinned her wrists to the mattress. Excitement, with a touch of alarm, in her chocolate eyes made his blood sizzle. Dragging her hands over her head, he used one of his own to trap her wrists together. Abbie tried to wriggle free, but a quelling look made her whimper with something other than fear. Balanced on the left hand near her head, Abraham let his right roam across the divine temptress beneath him.
He growled again with the frustration of not being able to run his lips over her soft curves, but he was determined to make up for his handicap.
Trailing his fingers lightly down her throat, he paused to trace the line of her collarbone, drawing delicious shivers from her skin.
He spent extra time with each breast, teasing the nipples back to stiffness he craved to feel on his tongue. His hand was large, but her buxom flesh filled it perfectly, as if Abbie's figure had been crafted for him.
Abraham skimmed his face just above her body, taking in the scent of her skin and the jasmine shampoo she used earlier.
She trembled when he reached the top of her pants. Her nerves finally winning over the rampant arousal, Abbie twisted her hips to keep him from unlocking the last of her secrets. Bad relationships had left no physical scars on her skin, but the emotional damage was still very real.
The Horseman's blue eyes rolled up to meet her brown, questioning. Abbie tried to squirm, but his grip on her wrists kept her anchored.
"They'll hear," she covered lamely, with a quick glance at the door.
"I expect they will," the evil grin he tossed her was all alpha male. "Having Ichabod hear you scream my name while I pleasure you is vastly appealing."
"Gloating is not very attractive, Abraham." Old stubborn doubts began to reawaken in Abbie's mind: was all of this just a ploy so the Horseman could get back at Ichabod?
He straightened from his crouch to lean over her. "If I have offended, allow me to make amends…"
"'Amends'? How do you-" Abbie gasped as he pressed his lower body against hers, letting her feel him rock hard and straining against the buttons of his jeans. Liquid heat rushed through her like a scalding wave, sweeping away the capability of rational thought for a few heartbeats. He thrust his hips upward slowly, grinding over hypersensitive areas that ached to feel more as a promise of things to come. "Dear Lord!"
The Horseman's deep chuckle was like velvet. "And you are my dear Lady."
She didn't have enough breath to laugh at the poor joke.
Suddenly, it seemed foolish to have stopped him from stripping her naked. He wasn't Luke: the egotistical man-child who abused her trust and body for his own pleasure. He wasn't Ichabod: the friend and partner who was emotionally unavailable.
This was Abraham, the Horseman who loved her. He had saved her, perhaps already more than once.
"Please..." she whispered, hoping he could hear the wealth of what she wanted to say in the single word.
He smiled.
It seemed like an eternity before Abraham finally popped the button on her jeans. Abbie whined as he paused once more to savor the desperate look on her face.
Abbie was contemplating how she could use her knees to gain the upper hand when there was a knock at the door.
"Be there in a minute!" Abbie squeaked, now fighting to get free of Abraham's grip in earnest.
The Horseman cursed long and fluently as he rolled off of the bed. A few quick angry steps and he nearly jerked the door off its hinges when he snatched it open.
"Jesus!" Jenny leaped back in shock. Her eyes went wide with appreciation at the sight of Abraham's bare chest before she remembered the purpose of disturbing him in the first place. "Pizza's ready, unless you would rather take it to-go-"
Some of the Horseman's irritation was tempered by slamming the door shut in Jenny's face.
"Never fails." Abbie giggled, a sound that was a shade close to insane. "Guess we'll have to pick this up later."
He didn't want to, especially when she looked so delightful: sprawled loosely across the bed. His body clambered to bury itself in her curves, but Abraham knew that once he started he would not let her go until they both were thoroughly satisfied.
She would need to eat something to keep up her strength.
With regret, he drew her from the bed to stand flushed and shaky against him. The Horseman slid his hands down her back until he grasped her rear. He pressed their bodies together, actually lifting her from the floor. He knew from the dark look in her eyes that she could still feel how hard he wanted her.
"Abigail…"
She wasn't sure if it was a warning or a plea, but she smiled. "Yeah…me too."
The Horseman settled her back on the floor and forced himself to step away.
Abbie felt him watching her as she dressed once more, his eyes soaking in every detail like she was a work of art.
She handed him the t-shirt he had discarded earlier.
"About the clothes: I don't normally have men's wear around. I bought them for Crane when he first woke up. But he's too sentimental about the old days and refuses to wear anything but 'homespun'. I'm sorry if they don't fit that well, but now that I have an idea of your…um…size, I can make better purchases."
"That will not be necessary, Henry procured garments for me at my estate." Abraham's brow rose as he saw the flicker of disappointment cross her face. "However, I appreciate the opportunity to try new fashions."
That earned him a tiny smile. Making Abbie pleased smoothed over the idea that he was wearing Ichabod's cast offs.
"Shall we go before your sister returns with a weapon?"
Abbie laughed with a nod.
AN: This chapter is much longer than my usual, there just wasn't a good break point for it so I just let everything ride. You don't mind do you? ;)
So, you also might have seen my post where I'm planning on going back to school. Yes, this means that I will have less time to write and zero time to serve as a Beta reader. I am very sorry for this, but FanFics don't pay the bills (unless you write Twit stuff, I guess). So, since my retirement plan of winning the PowerBall didn't work out last night - I guess we know what I'll be doing for the next while.
I have several more chapters for WTA already hammered out for the most part, so there shouldn't be an impact on my posting schedule for a little while. Once I see how my homework load is, I'll get a better idea on what non-school stuff I can handle.
Thank you all for your support of Brambie! I would love to see your contributions to this pairing, you can send it to me direct or post it on the FB page for everyone to see, :)