It didn't happen at all the way she expected.
Out of all the scenarios that popped into Abbie's head, she never even considered the one that actually happened.
Not that she was fantasizing about it or anything.
No. Not at all.
Never crossed her mind. Didn't give her something to keep her brain occupied while she was trapped for ten months.
Most definitely did not creep into her thoughts as she drifted off to sleep, a (welcome) distraction from the horrors they faced each day.
The horrors they faced together each day.
Together.
That was the word. The word that stopped her from hurling herself into the beckoning light of Pandora's box, the word that gave her the strength to kick the corner of the curséd chest so it sucked Pandora into the box instead.
Crane has been strangely quiet since then, as though he is struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. He denies it, claims he is merely "tired" or "pondering the manner of our next tribulation" when she asks about it.
It has been two weeks of quiet.
Too quiet.
Too much of Crane and his Thoughts.
So when he comes marching into the Archives one bright Saturday morning with a song on his lips, Abbie smiles, thinking he's sorted out whatever personal demons he hasn't been ready to share with her.
He enters the Archives with a bag from Donut Man and a cardboard tray bearing two cups, very deliberately sets them down, and stares hard at Abbie until she looks up from her screen.
"Hey, Crane," she says, smiling. He begins walking purposefully towards her. "You seem like you're in a good moo—mm!"
His lips cover hers, swallowing her words, while his large hands frame her lovely face.
She senses he is about to pull away and grabs the lapels of his coat, holding him in place. His answering groan as he deepens the kiss sends a jolt of heat straight through to her core, and she releases him before she either pulls him down to his knees in front of her or wraps her legs around him and climbs him like the tree he is.
"Wow…" she exhales, leaning back and looking up at him.
"Indeed," he agrees, looking more smug than she's ever seen him.
Which is saying a lot.
"So that was it, huh? The bug that's been in your butt for the past two weeks?" she asks. He nods, holding out his hand. She places hers in it, stands, and says, "What took you so long?"