Arms stiffly crossed over his chest, he surveyed the kitchen he'd just spent the last two hours putting back in place as a means of distraction; hoping the work would help in the clearing of his thoughts. Upon arriving home earlier in the evening, he'd expected to find Katrina had ignored his plea to allow him the work and gone on to straighten their kitchen herself before moving on to ripping up the carpet, or whatever other crazy idea she might have thought up while in his absence. He'd even prepped himself for the argument they were sure to have over it.

However, his assumption had been very wrong. When he'd walked through the front door with new information he'd thought she might appreciate regarding Henry Parrish, he'd found the kitchen still in complete disarray and Katrina gone without a trace. Over the first two hours, while he'd fumbled around in his attempt to fix the mess she'd created, he'd called her at least a dozen times with no positive results. Without the shadow of a doubt, he'd thought he knew what she was doing. Her obsession had finally led her out of the house and after Henry, himself. What had angered him the most, though, was her lack of a note, or the decency to pick up the ringing phone that was forever in her hand and permit him the peace of mind as to where she was.

He hadn't the faintest idea why the people of this time spent so much time on their cellular devices. Yes, they were useful, but at what expense? He'd watched, over the course of his time in this century, as whole families sat down to dinner and never lifted their gazes long enough to even see what the rest of their family was wearing. It was utterly ridiculous. Many times, he'd had to restrain himself from walking over and scolding the lot of them for their rudeness. What he wouldn't give to have a family to converse with over dinner, something this generation seemed to take for granted at every turn. But Katrina... she knew better. She should have known that when he arrived home, he would worry after her. She should have known that more caution should have been used. It wasn't just the fact that she'd broken her promise by leaving. It was the fact that she was out chasing someone she thought to be duplicitous all the while knowing a Horseman of the Apocalypse was intent upon claiming her as his own. That thought alone had struck another ping of worry within him. What if she wasn't ignoring him at all? What if Abraham had her and that's why she wasn't answering her phone?

That had been the point where he'd picked up his own phone and placed a call to the Leftenant in a frenzied panic. However, to his annoyance, that conversation had not gone the way he'd wanted it to in the least. Despite his worry and fervent belief that his soul mate was now in the clutches of the enemy, Abbie had calmly told him to slow his horses and calm down. She'd assured him that Katrina was a powerful witch with knowledge and abilities well beyond either of them and that she was likely out getting groceries or something. When he'd pressed that it had been two hours of her missing, she'd asked him when the last time he'd went grocery shopping was. Apparently, it was a time consuming task and there was a reason missing person's reports couldn't be filed until a certain amount of time had passed. However, that still hadn't stopped him from pressing his points and he'd managed to work her down to promising that if another two hours passed without the red head's appearance, then she'd go to the station and track her cell.

That had been half an hour ago and he was now, not so patiently, sitting on the sofa in their living room; his fingers drumming against the arm rest and his legs crossing and uncrossing every few minutes. Why did she have to do this to him? Why couldn't she have just rested like he'd begged her to? Why was she so blasted stubborn?

As he swallowed against the knot stuck in his throat, he again considered the idea of her being captured. Where would he even begin to look for her? What if he never saw her again? The very idea of never awakening to her green eyes again attempted to halt his heart. How would he survive in a world without Katrina? She was everything to him. In her rested all of his hopes and dreams for any real happiness; for a family of his own; for them to finally share their deepest and most longed for desires. The first time he'd thought he'd lost her had nearly destroyed him. He couldn't go through that again. Even if he did continue to live, he imagined he'd be nothing more than the shell of a man.

The click of the front door opening and closing perked his attention up as his eyes shot open. Bolting off the sofa, he darted toward the archway and nearly stumbled around the corner; his heart hammering in his throat at the knowledge he would soon lay eyes on her again.

The first thing his sight was drawn to was her russet hair tossed over one shoulder in a careless manner. Then, came the leather jacket she wore along with the skinny jeans she was so fond of. Lastly, he took in her gold flecked, olive green eyes as they jerked up to meet his harried appearance.

"Ichabod-"

"Where have you been?" he asked breathlessly as he clutched at the doorframe leading to the living room; praying he could keep himself upright long enough to receive answers.

He thought he'd surely pass out from the mental exertion his body had went through over the past few hours.

Her brow knit as she stared at him. "I went-"

"After Henry?" he cut in again, having no patience for long explanations. "I called you."

"My phone was off," she responded as she twisted her keys between her fingers, leaving him to believe she looked rather guilty. "I didn't see your calls until I turned it back on fifteen minutes ago."

Not able to stand another moment of not touching her, he began closing the distance between them, prompting her to begin speaking again; her eyes wide and practically pleading with him.

"Ichabod, I'm so sorr-"

Hands lifting and tangling in her thick hair, his mouth crashed into hers with a crushing kiss; one that had her stumbling back only to be pinned against the wall.

"Icha-" she attempted to mumble against his lips while simultaneously resting her hands on his arms; gripping him with her fingers and shoving at him.

For two hours, his anger had built and then, during the last half hour he'd spent sitting on that blasted sofa, he'd thought he'd lost her. He had literally been waiting for the allotted time the Leftenant had given him for her to confirm the inevitable outcome that was his love being gone forever. Now, there was a massive storm in his chest because of such thoughts and it needed a place to release its force; its furious outburst of emotion.

Pressing her as firmly against the wall as he could manage, he dropped the hand tangled in her hair to her neck and held her in place as he tilted his head for better access to her mouth; prying her lips apart with his tongue and slipping it inside her hot cavern to trace around her own.

It was then that her hands finally stopped pushing at him and, instead, began gripping his shoulders to pull him closer; her body welcoming the weight of his. With the assurance that she wasn't going anywhere, he dropped his hands to her sides where he began pushing her jacket away from her body; reveling in the heat beneath which told him she was alive and here; that she was his to claim.

When the jacket was as far off her as it would go, he pulled her from the wall and shoved it from her shoulders before blindly tossing it down the hallway; caring not where it landed. There was little patience in him for proper etiquette. His emotions were raw and demanding a means of healing.

As her slick tongue chased his back into his own mouth, the warmth of her saliva making him tingle, he pushed his hands up her shirt; sliding his fingers along her smooth skin; the hem of her shirt catching and tugging upwards until they were forced to pull apart so he could rid her of it and discard it in the same direction her jacket had went.

He was burning and he wanted her to burn, too. While there had been a fair amount of anger over her absence, for the most part, he had settled on actively counting the minutes that passed by until he'd found he was practically hyperventilating with worry. Now, he needed to be as close to her as possible.

Slipping the thin straps off her shoulders, his fingers fumbled with the clasp along her back and pulled it free before allowing the last hindrance of her upper body to fall away; leaving her exposed to his wants; to his needs. She was such a beautiful creature; her chest flushed; her breathing labored. Normally, he would take his time with her, but not now. There was no appreciation to be had in the passing moments. There would be time for that later; when he was positive she was his again.

His hands fell to her waist and guided her back against the wall as his mouth descended to her warm breasts, which were so soft and smooth beneath his lips that he felt as though he were falling into a deep state of intoxication from just touching them.

She was his greatest desire and he wanted her to awaken the following morning knowing it. He needed her to have a deep understanding of how vital she was to his existence. It wasn't just her anymore. She couldn't just run off as she pleased. Everywhere she went, she took his heart with her and he needed for there to be an understanding that that part of their lives was over. Now, he knew why she was so angry over his capturing the Horseman without her knowledge. It was unacceptable behavior; reckless even. If they were going to be man and wife, a certain acknowledgement needed to be in place. As they would be one flesh, they would need to act accordingly. There was no her and him; there was them.

Her mewls of satisfaction under his frenzied touches flickered over his skin like a raging furnace, effectively arousing him even further as he grunted against her skin. Her hands were splayed along his lower back; tickling his skin as she hooked a leg around his calf to bring them closer together. Lifting his head, he caught her desire coated eyes; darkened in ways that made his skin prickle with how very real she was. It caused such a heaviness in his chest that he found he could no longer allow her to go without scolding.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was becoming? The thoughts that were beginning to run through my mind?" He caught her chin in his fingers to level their gazes, needing her to see how affected he'd been by her actions. "I thought Abraham had you."

A few rapid blinks led to her eyes falling closed as she spoke through heavy pants, "I'm so sorry. I never consider that."

Her lack of forethought did nothing for him. His chest still felt overwhelmingly tight; like everything was coiling further and further around his heart. She had to make it stop. Only she could.

"I'm burning on the inside, Katrina," he whispered as he leaned his forehead to hers; their warm breaths mingling in ways that had him feeling lightheaded. "I feel like a knot of anger and worry is balled tightly inside my chest. Why would you do that to me?"

She couldn't have looked more forlorn if she'd tried. Her fingers crept up his neck, the touch of them practically scalding him, as she tilted her head and brushed her lips over his cheek. "I'll do anything to stop it. Just tell me what you need, my love."

Eyes falling tightly closed, he took in the smooth skin of her back beneath his fingers; the way her chest pressed into his; her bare skin exposed; her warm breath on his face. It had him burning ever hotter.

A small part of him knew he needed to calm himself; that he was acting irrationally, most likely from a significant lack of sleep and exhaustion. However, the larger part of him needed her reassurance; needed her touch to sweep it all away.

"Take the rest of your clothes off and get in bed."

Perhaps it wasn't the best solution to go without talking things out, but it was the only thing he had the energy to do.

There was a slight hesitation in her eyes, but she still gave a small nod as she dropped her fingers to the button of her jeans. "Do you not want to talk about it?"

"Not now," he whispered as he held onto the walls on either side of her for support; the lightheadedness still present. "I need you. I need to know..."

As she backed down the hallway toward their room, he followed her like a starving predator stalking its prey. That's what they were right now. Just like any predator devoured its prey and made it a part of them, so would she be devoured and become a part of him.

Upon reaching their bed, she leaned against its edge and began pushing her boots and jeans down her legs; leaving him to swallow the clot of saliva building in his mouth. Every inch of her smooth skin set his skin to blazing hotter and hotter.

Her eyes danced over him with a mixture of worry and curiosity, but he ignored her looks, instead choosing to keep his eyes on her body.

When she was left in only the dark green underwear wrapped around her most intimate of places, he took a determined step forward and settled his fingers on the sides of her thighs where he tapped along her skin, moving upward inch by inch until he was slipping them into the sides of the material.

Throughout it all, she never took her eyes off him and it sent a pulse straight down his spine, prompting him to summon his strength and rip the material caught in his grasp right up the middle, causing her to give a slight gasp as her hands grasped his upper arms.

"You should yell at me," she murmured softly, her eyes darting between his. "I deserve it."

Fingers skimming over her hips, he ducked his head and slammed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss, leaning her back in the process, until she was lying sideways across their bed; the soft mattress giving under their weight.

Whatever hesitation she may have had disappeared the moment she settled herself as her hands began sliding along his sides in a hurried manner, fumbling for the hem of his shirt and slipping beneath it to scratch over his abdomen; her thighs parting to rest alongside his hips, presenting him with the home he craved.

Her taste was bitter, like she'd recently partaken of a cup of coffee, but her mouth was still plenty inviting; her hot saliva coating his tongue as he swirled it around hers.

"Katrina," he moaned against her wet lips as he rested his forehead to hers. "I burn for you."

A slow grin brought her dimples out, all worry and nervousness gone, as she splayed her hands against his back and pulled him closer. "How brightly?"

Eyes darting to her darkened ones, he swallowed with the need to wet his throat which had suddenly gone dry. It had been a very long time since she'd said that to him. During those times where they'd snuck about all those years ago, she'd taken to asking him that question any time he would tell her he burned for her; whether they were reuniting after a long winter of separation, or simply overcome with lust and feeding it in some dark corner with her pressed firmly into a wall. Needless to say, he'd always attempted to make her feel his burning reciprocated deep within herself.

Quickly pushing himself up, he regained his feet and reached for the hem of his shirt before hastily pulling it over his head; never taking his eyes from hers as she leaned up on her elbows to watch him. He, then, slipped his hands into the waist of his trousers and shoved them down his legs; wasting no time in stepping out of them.

Her eyes followed his progression with a lick to her lips; her tongue teasing over the plump flesh.

Unable to stand another moment's separation, he returned to her; crawling onto the bed and resuming his place over her; absorbing the scent of vanilla which was attempting to mask her natural scent. It was enough to draw his descent to her neck where he began placing biting kisses along her throat; enjoying every moment of the way she mewled beneath him; her fingers digging into his arms while the other tangled in his hair to press him closer with twists that were nearly painful.

What added to the coursing heat in his core was the feeling of her dampness every time he shifted his lower body, which caused his cock to slide against her; each time greeting him with a gasp that prompted him to suck harder at her skin. He was so enthralled with touching her. Sometimes it felt like he might not survive without the feel of her skin beneath his fingers; without her heartbeat throbbing against his chest. Was it even natural to crave a person so deeply?

Dragging his mouth to her ear, he whispered, "Did you cast a spell on me, witch?"

With a turn of her head toward him, she pressed a damp, wet kiss to his cheek. "As if I'd need to."

Eyes falling closed as she began kissing along his throat, he sagged onto his forearms and rested his forehead to the bed. Sometimes, he imagined he could just bask in her presence for eternity and be content.

The way she kissed him; touched him. Everything she did in these moments screamed her affection for him; her love.

Sucking in a shuddered breath, he attempted to concentrate on her lips rather than her fingers, which were digging into his muscles and easing him into a far too relaxed state. The way she every so often slipped her tongue out to swipe over his skin, often to accompany the light nips she placed to his flesh, were all he wanted to think about.

Sliding one hand up the opposite side of her body to tangle in her hair, he began softly massaging her scalp; reveling in how perfect she felt against him. He had no doubt she was perfectly designed just for him. No other would ever fit against him the way she did. No other would ever make him feel the way she did.

When her fingers slid even further down and grabbed a handful of his flesh to pull him closer, he nearly jumped off the bed. So lost in his thoughts, he'd nearly fallen right to sleep with her soothing caresses.

"Katrina..."

"I hope we'll always burn this way," she whispered into his ear, her warm breath invading him. "I never want to stop burning, Ichabod."

Needing to see her, he lifted his head and caught her olive eyes; the gold flecks he so loved full of love; full of life. The look in her eyes was so earnest that he found himself unsure how to respond, leaving him to go with a simple, but no less powerful, "I love you."

Her eyes softened as she slid her hand up his back and over his shoulder to rest along his cheek. "I'm sorry I disappointed you." She gave a hard swallow and shake of her head. "I hate disappointing you. I'm so afraid that one day you're going to cut your losses and find better than me."

Stunned by her train of thought, especially considering his, he grasped her hand and brought it to his heart. "It beats for you and you alone." He smiled lightheartedly. "Besides, who else would put up with my antics? I practically begged the Leftenant to file a missing person's report earlier."

When she only gave the tiniest of laughs in return, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and rolled off her body, greeting the cool air of the room as he sat up.

Crawling up the bed, he pulled the covers back and glanced at her, where she was now sitting up, her brow knit as she watched him.

"What are you doing? I thought-"

"Come here," he murmured as he reached for her hand and tugged at her until she relented and followed him up the bed.

Struggling with the blankets as they were both sitting on them, he finally managed to lift them enough for him to slip beneath and then hold them up for her to follow.

While she did everything he signaled her to do, the frown never once left her face. Obviously, this wasn't what she'd been expecting. To be completely honest, this wasn't where he'd thought the night would go either.

When she was situated in her usual resting place, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into his chest; molding into her out of habit.

With his lips just over her ear, he whispered, "I adore you, Katrina van Tassel."

Her fingers threaded though his as she brought them to her lips where she placed a tender kiss to his knuckles. "Even though I broke my promise?"

Pressing a kiss to her ear, he said, "No matter how angry and frustrated you make me, I swear to you that my adoration will never cease."

She shifted his arm and brought it to rest between her breasts. "I'll do my best to keep the need for anger and frustration in our home at a low."

Lightly chuckling, he asked, "Did you find what you were searching for?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sighed rather wearily. "I don't know. He gave the perfect explanation that should have assuaged my doubts, but, despite what he said, I still feel there's cause to doubt him."

"The Leftenant and I searched for information regarding him that might corroborate what you felt, but we didn't turn anything up," he tiredly whispered into her ear. "I'm not sure what more proof you need."

"Ichabod, I swear," she pressed on, the conviction in her voice strong. "There's something more going on with him. He makes me feel so... I can't explain it. It's not just that I feel he's lying. There's something else; something deeper."

As his arms wrapped further around her, he burrowed into the back of her neck. "Doubt him all you like, my love, but you must remember that it's a tightrope you're walking when it comes to you and Miss Jenny. She seems to care for him very deeply and, loathe as I am to admit it, she's a very good judge of character."

"I know," she said, tracing her fingers over his arm. "I just... I can't seem to let this go. He's gotten under my skin in a way no one ever has. There's something about his eyes that unnerves me. I feel so... strange when he's present; like there's something just out of my reach that I should be understanding."

Knowing this issue was far from resolved, he gave a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. "He's a supernatural being. I think strange is implied." He could practically feel her rolling her eyes, but he was too tired to confirm it. "Katrina, I trust your feelings, but the man hasn't done anything wrong. I'm torn between having my own feelings which say he's perfectly alright and wanting to believe in your unending doubts concerning him."

"Do you think I'm wrong?" she asked, her low voice giving way to her fear of his answer.

"I think we all need to be more careful when it comes to who we trust," he answered as evenly as he could manage. "Only time will tell when it comes to Henry, but, for now, I think it best to treat him as someone Miss Jenny deeply cares for."

When she remained quiet, he added, "Perhaps, tomorrow will shed some new light on the issue."

"Perhaps."

The off manner in which she spoke left him feeling more tired than ever.

"I simply want to lay here with the knowledge that you're safe," he whispered against her skin. "Can we do that?"

She pressed another kiss to his knuckles before turning in his arms, her gaze finding his. "I'll even let you watch me sleep."

Grin spreading over his face, he whispered, "Perfect."

Oh Ichabod, you adorable worry wart.

Next up: A late night phone call, a missing head, more than one confrontation, and a horrible accident leaving a couple of someone's in peril.

Until then, thanks for reading!