Notes: Hey All! Sorry about the super long delay. I've been seriously trying to work on this story since Thanksgiving, I just haven't been able to. I have a few chapters written after this one so I hope to post another one very soon. Thanks for all of the love, I really appreciate you all! I was never able to read this chapter in one setting, which causes me to worry that it's boring, lol, but i hope it isn't.


Before the question left Abbie's mouth she'd already turned the inquisition on herself. She was, with him, as close to certainty of someone's love as she could ever imagine being. But it was amazing the way a single seed of doubt could dilute it all.

Did I miss something? She asked herself.

Her memories rewound. In a matter seconds every scrap of information she'd ever retained or learned about him came under review starting with the night she'd rounded the precinct corner and come face to face with the curious man locked inside of the holding cell. Nothing prepared her for how quickly their bond grew from there. The battles, victories, and defeats, the inexplicable comfort they felt from one another's company, the company they dreamt up countless ways to keep from parting with. All of this was before they'd ever moved in together, and when they did it all became so much more unmanageable.

At work there were triumphs and prolonged embraces, while at home there were awkward collisions and silly silences that always seemed to follow them. Chess battles breeched the midnight hour, and the smell of blueberry pancakes greeted her with the sun. But there was nothing in any of that which explained his propensity to do this sort of thing, and certainly nothing that could explain the way his face paled when she'd discovered the barrette.

Abbie stood facing Ichabod, eyes upturned while the regent of her doubt dug into her fisted palm. She felt like she needed to pinch herself awake, unable to believe that she was standing here questioning him this way, unable to believe that any of this was real. The expression he'd worn when she first mined the earring from the sofa, the sour-stomached one that even now he attempted to hide reminded her that she wasn't dreaming at all, quite the opposite, she was wide awake.

Still it felt impossible, like she'd played a game of cards in which all of the cards were facing up, but still couldn't comprehend the way the hands had played out. She asked herself again, Did I miss something?

You saw what you chose to see. A small voice replied. Remember?

And the memories whirl through her head, all in a flash. The rush of bittersweet turbulence she felt when his strong, but unquestioningly married arms wound around her on a darkened dance floor, the security she sensed when those same protective arms pulled her from another man's car and saw her home…shouting matches ensued giving way to apologies, small kisses, and piggyback rides. He wanted to talk then, but she hid behind chess pieces. Soon after, they'd gone to steal the Crystal of Siberia, and ended up thieving kisses beneath Oregonian skies, well 'William' and 'Audrina' were technically the ones kissing, but no sooner did their lips part than Ichabod stood before her on that balcony and demanded she say his name and claim it real. She did. Later that evening he sat her on his lap and told her that he loved her, and til' this day her ears had never heard anything so sweet. After that he looked her in the eyes and told her that she was his Apple…God help her, she believed him.

There are pathways, nothing ever just happens.

It was different. She thinks, cloaking herself in a comfort she isn't sure is warranted. But she hopes because if it was different, if there was something about their love that was inherently unique then perhaps she could justify the existence of it while he was still married. Perhaps she could justify not putting her guard up after she discovered the impassive relationships he'd had with women before.

Was it different? She challenged herself as the images of the women he'd discreetly torn through taunted her. I suppose I was different as well, their nameless voices said. Me too! Hey what about us, we were different! Soon the mirrors of her mind were clouded over with pretty women whose faces she really couldn't remember. All of them claiming the same thing she had…exception. Something notwithstanding the obvious that brought him to their door. She was inwardly panicking until she slowed herself down and forced herself to remember what it was he was so desperately chasing then. Her. Silence befell her thoughts as she recalled the world before this one, and the girlhood dreams she'd had of the tall boy who travelled the maze with her. A connection that anchored her to him before they'd ever met.

It was different. She tells herself, I am different. And this time she believes, but still…

Ichabod stood in the center of what felt like an ambush, but instead of bullets and swords flying about there was only her. He looked down at Abbie's hard-set face watching as the color drained from her eyes like sifted sand, speck by speck. The only thing he could think of was replenishing it before his time ran out. Like a traditional ambush, it had happened too swiftly for him to keep up but, unlike a true ambush his options of weathering it were limited. Were it a regular surprise attack he might have had the chance to flee and seek cover, perhaps in some off and away bunker where he could hold up until the dust settled. But there wasn't anywhere he could go that he wouldn't still love her, and no place known to man where he wouldn't feel the sting of the way she looked at him just now.

He was still unclear how any of this transpired, only a moment ago her heavenly curves were settled above him taking control of his entire life, and in the next breath he was not only orphaned of her warmth, but also being made to defend himself. It wasn't fair. His nerves were shot, and his heart was beating faster than he thought safely possible. It was a rapid, steady, thump against his ribcage, ticking like a bomb, and he knew without question she was the only thing capable of triggering or diffusing it. It was always her.

"Say something." She quietly ordered, voice stuffed with apprehension while her eyes were an explosion of impatience. Ichabod blinked down at his wife, palms perspiring as he tried his damndest to figure out the quickest path to restoring the light her irises usually held.

"I, I," He choked at the sound of his own voice, hearing how thin and shaky it was only caused him to grow more disconcerted. He cleared his throat, and said the first thing that popped into his mind.

"I've no idea."

He stood tall, holding his breath as he wondered what she was thinking. For a moment her face went blank and he released a quiet thankful sigh imagining that was the end of it. But in the next instant her eyes had rolled shut and he knew he'd made a terrible miscalculation. When she went quiet and kept her eyes closed it usually signaled prayer, prayer while she was angry was usually a clear indication of rage. During those times at least two souls hung in a delicate balance, hers, and whichever soul was so unfortunate as to have aggrieved her. Ironically, the only time he was ever truly afraid of his wife was when she prayed that way. Though he was too frightened to close his eyes, Ichabod sealed his lips together during the uncomfortable quiet and silently prayed along with her. He didn't get the chance to finish.

"Look at me." She ordered, as if he wasn't already.

"I am, Treasure." He carefully replied, unblinking.

Her eyes narrowed in on him as her head angled off to the side. "You have no idea?" She asked slower this time.

Ichabod's stomach plunged as his ears keyed in on the rhetorical air she spoke with. A nervous tremble overtook his fingers causing him to promptly shove them into knots behind his back as he attempted to respond.

"I." Recant and tell the whole of it. A small voice from the back of his head urged him, but just as quickly Bren's voice came forward and he was reminded of the conversation they'd had this morning.

"Wait. You're thinking of telling who what?" Bren had asked.

"Abbie." Ichabod responded as he mulled things over. "The truth."

"That is the most self-sabotaging noise I have ever heard in my life." Bren said shooting the mini nerf ball into the hoop hung atop Ichabod's bathroom door. "What the hell would possess you to tell her that?"

Ichabod scooped up the ball, and palmed a moment before taking a shot.

"Abbie and I," he sighed, watching the ball bounce off the rim, "we do not keep such things from one another. We are, quite close. I know it may not appear that way at the moment, but truly we are."

"I'm close with Kayley," Bren responded, pulling down a shot to instead lecture his friend, "But what I'm not going to do is tell her that I woke up with another woman in my arms when I didn't hit. That's like going to the police and turning yourself in for drinking and driving just because you had a bottle of unopened liquor in the car." He tossed the ball into the hoop and turned around. "You didn't crack the bottle right?"

"Crack the bottle?! Ichabod exclaimed, hands raising in front of him. "Not only did I not open the bottle, I neither purchased the bottle, I have no recollection of ever touching said bottle." He groaned, before adding. "I simply woke and there it lay." He left the game and walked across the room to his couch, plopping down. Bren followed him over, idly tossing the ball from hand to hand.

"And you're positive it was still unopened, you didn't try to like…pull the plastic off the lid and take a little swig?" He asked, settling into the chair across from him.

"—Absolutely positive." Ichabod emphatically declared before his friend could finish getting the words out. His head fell back against the wall behind the couch. "Plastic off of the lid," he cantankerously muttered, rubbing his eyes. "You are not helping."

"Look I'm just trying to understand how it was just there?" Bren asked, trying to get a feel for things. Ichabod wearily raised his head.

"I am as uncertain as you." He confessed, as his fingertips closed around the bridge of his nose. "She wore a scent eerily similar to Abigail's, I am nearly certain that it was the same, however it smelled differently upon her skin," He recalled before staring off blankly as he tried to sort out the memory, "not as sweet." He remembered, eyes returning to Bren. "Nevertheless I awoke to the feel of a hand moving upward against my abdomen, at which time I reached down and pulled her close and that was the moment I realized…"

"It wasn't Abbie." Bren supplied, setting the ball down at his side. Ichabod nodded his head.

"Look," Bren shook his head, "from everything you've told me, no harm no foul. If nothing happened telling Abbie will only invite more stress, and I would not by any means do that. It's not like you don't already have enough shit to deal with, but that's just me."

"To the contrary I must confess the same sentiment has been circling my thoughts since the incident occurred." Ichabod admitted, biting his lip against the thought of telling her. "Especially in light of how peculiar she has been behaving as of late."

"You don't have to convince me." Bren said, gently scratching the backside of his head. "But truthfully you have to be just as careful if you decide not to tell her, because honestly she might already know."

A chill shot through Ichabod, his shoulders drew up as he quickly sat forward. "I beg your pardon, how?" He asked not realizing he was holding his breath.

Bren leaned his head to the side and stared blankly at his friend.

"Look Ichabod, I don't really know how to say this to you but…your wife is a black woman." He stated plainly. Ichabod pointedly eyed his friend as a mixture of relief and irritation coursed through him. He settled back against the couch pushing a heavy breath of relief out as his heartbeat returned to normal.

"Thank you for being so kind as to point that out Brendan, I had not realized." He returned in a haughty tone, his fingers stretched across his forehead as he attempted to massage the stress from his temples. Bren rolled his eyes in response to his friend's sarcasm.

"Listen to me," He explained. "I have four black sisters, four, that means I grew up with black women, my mother's black, I was raised by a black woman, and I am now married to a black woman," He counted off, "So I think I have some insight on the way they operate. I'm not saying they all operate the same, because clearly they do not, each and every one of my sisters who were raised by the same mother and father are wildly different. What I'm trying to tell you is that your woman might already know."

"Forgive me if I fail to see how Abbie, who is not now present, nor has been present, nor spoken to Miss Kelly or myself who aside from you are the only individuals who know what transpired might already know."

"Look you think that black girl magic shit is just a hashtag, trust me it's not. I've been studying them for my whole entire life, I know." He said slapping the top of his hand into his palm for affect. Ichabod grew quiet, eyebrow rising as his curiosity piqued.

"For everything I know about physics I know ten times as much about black women, and I'm telling you, they know things that there is absolutely no logical explanation for them to know. It's like they're tapped into some alternate space of consciousness or some shit, and quite frankly I'm surprised no one else has noticed it by now. I don't know if they're getting their intel from the CIA, KGB, God, or the muafuckin' Devil, but they get it." He said confidently. "In Kayley's case I think it's all four, honestly." He pensively added, nodding his head.

"You're serious?" Ichabod asked, an ironic grin growing across his face.

"As a heart attack," Bren quickly replied, taking stock of his friend's amusement. "See you're smiling, but this shit is not a joke, you need to prepare yourself for the fact that she might already know. Listen," He went on, "Even my daughter has it. Just last week I finished putting together this ramp for Ian. Hannah was in the garage painting flames on this box car she and Kayley put together. She made a big deal about only wanting Kayley to help her with it, even though I have degrees in Aerospace and Mechanical Engineering, amongst others, and Kayley has a degree in Linguistics," He said using air-quotes and rolling his eyes, "but that's another story." Ichabod began to realize that his friend might be the only person who spoke with his hands as much as he did.

"So Hannah looks over at Ian with her little paintbrush dangling in her hand right when he's getting ready to test the ramp, and she says, don't do it Ian, you're going to hurt yourself." Bren repeated softening his voice to mimic Hannah's.

"I was offended." He reported, palm flat against his chest, "I felt like she was underestimating my craftsmanship, which correspondingly was the same way I felt when she asked Kayley to help her build the boxcar instead of me, but like I said, another story. So I told her, Banana you stay over there with your little paintbrushes and boxcar that you and your mother didn't want anybody to help you with, I hope the wheels fall off. But I didn't really hope that, because she's my princess, and I never want her hurt, but I told her that because I was hurt. So then I look at my son, I said son do not let anyone discourage you from accomplishing something that you know you can do, you got this. And I watched this fire grow in his eyes man, his chest puffed up, and I could just tell he felt unstoppable in that moment. So he hopped on his skateboard, built up the perfect speed, hit that ramp…"

"And." Ichabod asked, intrigued.

"Split his shit wide open." Bren revealed, cringing in remembrance. "It was blood everywhere, I almost passed out." He added veridically. "He had to get six stitches on the side of his temple. Kay wouldn't look at me for three days."

"My word!" Ichabod exclaimed, eyes growing large with concern. "How is young Ian?"

"He's good…now. But the point is we came home from the hospital and I asked Banana how she knew, you know, I basically just asked her what made her think he'd get hurt. And she looked at me and—it was the cutest thing ever guy—she paused her little cartoon program and gave me her full undivided attention, and she said, well one of the reasons was Ian had his shoes on the wrong feet, so I knew that wasn't good right away daddy. How she noticed and we didn't, I will never know. But when I asked her what was the other reason she said, I just knew daddy, you know, something in my spirit just told me that he was going to hurt himself. As soon as she said that I knew what it was."

"Black girl magic." Ichabod supplied.

"Black. Girl. Magic." Bren slowly nodded. "And Banana's only six man!" He loudly boasted, hands growing more expressive as his excitement increased. "The force isn't even that strong with her yet."

"So it's potency is affected by age?" Ichabod played along.

"From what I can tell, it gets stronger as they get older because Kayley has some super bionic type powers I can't even scratch the surface of comprehending." He said as though it was pure scientific fact.

"Does she, do tell." Ichabod asked, unable to stop himself.

"Guy, two weeks ago she sat straight up in bed at three thirty five in the morning. I assumed she was getting up to use the restroom or something so I fell back asleep. I woke up ten minutes later and she was sitting in the same position staring at me with the most sinister, wicked ass look I've ever seen in my life. When I asked her what was wrong she proceeded to tell me how upset she was with me because she felt that I was too friendly with a woman in her dream!"

Ichabod chuckled, as Bren's eyes flared wide.

"I said I have no idea who you're talking about, it was your dream. She said, well y'all sure seemed awful buddy-buddy ten minutes ago." Bren's mouth fell open in disbelief even as he retold the story. "I was like ten minutes ago I was sleep, and so were you, are you freaking kidding me, it's a dream! At this point I'm just like, go back to sleep dear, I don't know this woman you're talking about, it isn't real.

Apparently the woman in her dream looked a lot like her, she was like her doppelganger or something, which only pissed her off more. So she legitimately lectured me in the middle of the night about how she would divorce me if I ever even thought about cheating on her. Kayley literally fell asleep talking shit, talking about she might look like me, but don't you ever get it confused, that bitch is not and never will be me. Especially with that mustard yellow jumpsuit and those red ass pumps, what kind of Ronald McDonald shit was that?"

Ichabod felt guilty for laughing at Bren's apparent distress but he couldn't help it.

"I couldn't believe it. She literally shaded someone from her dream, and meant it!" Bren said, eyes bulging. He looked over at Ichabod, his arm resting on the arm of the sofa as he laughed into his half fisted hand.

"Wait, wait, wait." Bren chuckled, "Here's the thing, I'm at Tre's later that week getting a shave, and this woman walks in who looks so much like Kayley I can't stop staring at her. I guess she notices my stare so she smiles, and I smile back. She actually came over and started talking to Tre while she was waiting for her appointment to start, you know they turned the whole downstairs into a nail salon or whatever, but anyway, after a minute, all of us started conversing. The whole time she's standing there I can't keep my eyes off of her because the resemblance was that significant, she was beautiful man she looked just like Kay. Understandably she misinterprets that attention, and said something a little flirty just as she pulled off her rain jacket. That's when I look at what she's wearing…"

Ichabod grinned, before groaning. "No!"

Bren nodded his head, as if to prove his whole point. "Uh-huh. A yellow jumpsuit and red shoes! Up until that point I had completely forgotten about that whole interaction with Kay. I swear to God when I saw that shit, I almost got up and walked out with my head half shaved."

Ichabod's cheeks went red from laughter, he leaned forward attempting to catch his breath.

"You think I'm kidding, I was halfway to the door when Tre was like bro what are you doing?" Bren laughed. "So look I'm telling right now for your own safety, do not ever underestimate black girl magic, that shit is real."

Ichabod chuckled long and hard at the thought of Bren attempting leave the barbershop with half a haircut. His eyes were red with the beginning of tears by the time he caught his breath.

"Bren," He said after he contained himself, "I have no doubt whatsoever as to the existence of black girl magic, however this is the first I've heard of it manifesting in the manner which you've described here today, this clairvoyance so to speak. Forgive me but when I have heard Abbie and Miss Jenny speak of it, it is presented somewhat differently. For example, they might describe black girl magic as the ability of a woman, with no particular mechanical nor carpentry training, building a boxcar, together with her young daughter, armed with nothing but can do, and a measly "Linguistics" degree between the two of them." Ichabod teased in a lively voice, air-quotes and all.

"Aww man," Bren pulled his head back already knowing where this was going. "Guy are you kidding me right now?"

"Oh I assure you, I kid not," Ichabod happily replied, "And going further, not only do they construct this boxcar, but they also succeed in securing first place in the derby, upon their very first entry!"

Bren grabbed the ball and whipped it towards Ichabod's head, who managed to pause from laughing long enough to block it to the floor.

"Who told you?"

"Shall I just say, someone drawing from a separate state of consciousness." Ichabod smugly replied.

"Abbie." Bren stated, realizing that's the only person he could have heard it from.

"She shared the link to the video with me just yesterday evening." Ichabod admitted with a smile. "You should be quite proud."

"Three years." Bren said with the slight grin and shake of his head. "Three years I tried to help Ian win that derby, and he didn't even want to do it this year. So when Hannah said she did, I thought I had another chance, but hey." He laughed. "I was crazy proud though, I videotaped the whole award ceremony then went home and watched it like eighteen times in a row. Did you see how happy she was up there, holding her medal up to the sky, and Kayley said she did most of it herself."

"She looked as though she'd conquered the world." Ichabod fondly recalled. "You and Kayley are quite blessed." He added almost a little dolefully, trying to envision a future where he and Abbie might be gifted a girl. It seemed too great a distance away to imagine.

"Man I thank God every day, and that's the truth. Look," Bren said standing to his feet, he picked up the compensation package that he and Ichabod had reviewed earlier, "This is," He shook his head tapping the packet against his hand trying to figure out how to ask what he'd been worried about, "You're sure I won't be stepping on anyone's toes, I mean this package would make me the second largest shareholder in the organization, P…"

"—Is on board." Ichabod stated resolutely. He stood to his feet to join him. "Do not worry about Perry. He is much happier in the field, talking and meeting with clients, and quite honestly he is much more effective in that role, he's good at it." He added nodding to himself. "But the fact remains that I need a partner here, and when I presented him with projections as to how far I believe this company can travel with the two of us at the helm, well he was happy, eager even to part with some of his shares, as was Ethan, as was I, there is plenty to go around."

"I see that!" Bren lauded, taking a look around at the spacious office. "And P sent me a pic of his new car?"

"The Aventador?" Ichabod's head dipped as his voice took on a reverent tone.

"Broooo." Bren said into his fisted palm, face wincing as he recalled first seeing the vehicle. "And my man got the roadster with the matte black. That boy is the epitome of cold."

"Egregiously overpriced for the service it provides." Ichabod returned, before lowering his tone. "But cold indeed. And the acceleration is life altering." He added with a growing smile.

"Yeah he's supposed to show me what it can do today after our lunch meeting." With that Bren extended his hand and clasped it with Ichabod's.

"Alright, I'm going to get outta here, and try to catch Kayley's planning period just to go over things with her one more time.

"I understand. Good luck." Ichabod said giving his friend a pat on the shoulder.

"I'll get back with you in a few hours." Bren replied, "And you might want to save that luck for yourself." He joked through a half smile. "You're good right?" He jokingly asked reminding him of the looming matter he'd yet to deal with.

"Oh stellar." Ichabod deadpanned before a brief smile, causing Bren to chuckle along. "I have decided it wise in this particular instance to allow sleeping dogs to lie."

Now he stood questioning that very decision. He looked down at his wife toggling between pathways. The question she'd asked spun around his head on an endless loop while the impatience in her eyes caused his shoulders to feel heavier than they actually were. You have no idea?

"No," He shook his head, brows lifting toward his forehead, "I do not."

Abbie couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so deflated. She couldn't quite decide who the bigger fool was, and though her backbone told her it was him, she didn't feel that way. What sickened her the most was how easily the words rolled off of his tongue. Like he meant them. Not to mention the way he looked at her as he said them, back straight as a washboard, chin holding up an expression that denoted complete shock. The way he looked she would have thought he'd never seen an earring a day in his life, let alone the one she currently held. Like the mere notion that he might have any insight as to how the piece of jewelry was found in his office, buried in his sofa was outrageous. She wondered how many people he could have convinced he was telling the truth. She wondered if he had any earthly idea how close she was to Fucking. Him. Up. She waited for him to break character, to laugh and reveal the entire debacle a hoax, her heart sinks a little further when he doesn't.

"So...you're just…" She quietly paused, attempting to still her temper, "you're just going to look me in the face, and lie to me Crane?"

Even though he'd just uttered the words he wasn't certain how to go about retrieving them, and even he could he's unsure what ones he would leave in their stay. Suddenly Abbie was laughing, near breathlessly, he shuddered at how true and dismissive it sounded.

"Know what? Screw it." She muttered, her laugh and hapless smile waning as she slung the earring in the direction of the couch. He reached out, calling her name and attempting to corral her as she tried to move past him.

"Do not touch me." She warned trying to stiff armed him away, but it wasn't enough. Their words seemed to all come out at the same time, Abbie asking him to leave her alone and get out of her way, while he asked her to give him a moment to explain. He was bigger, stronger, and all over her not really understanding the degree to which she didn't want to be touched until her palm smacked across his cheek. He stopped then, seeming shocked as if he hadn't heard her ask him to stop touching her at all. Her face broke a little when with the slight shake of her head she wordlessly let him know not to touch her again, that his privilege to do so had been resoundingly rebuked, that the only thing she could feel in the pads of his fingers was betrayal and debasement. He looked down at the water brimming in her eyes, silently scolding himself for bringing about the very thing he'd hoped to avoid. A defeated sigh left him as he stepped aside.

Abbie was surprised that her legs kept balanced after being cut out from under her, but they did and then some. There wasn't a slip nor wobble, as she marched across the room traveling as far and fast as they could carry as she went for her purse. But her hands and lips trembled, the space just beneath her chest ached, and her mind was complete mush. He knew trust meant everything to her, for him to lie and risk jeopardizing it the truth had to have been worse. She could barely see straight when she thought of what had to have happened.

"Abbie." He called, trying again as she tugged her satchel from the chair.

"—Not one more word," She said as solemnly as an oath, eyes slipping across him as she briefly catalogued how pitifully sad he looked, like he was the wounded one, and she was the cheat.

The woman who had habitually made him feel like a king now made him feel as though the currency his voice once held was counterfeit, and no longer welcome in her presence…like the next words he spoke would be etched upon his tombstone. He stood idle a moment, watching helplessly as she slung her bag over her shoulder. He tried to do the correct thing, to obey her wishes and allow her the space she'd requested. He almost managed it, but as soon as she neared the door he hurried to her and caught hold of her from behind.

"Listen." He urgently pled as she attempted to wring herself free. She looked down at his hands on her arms.

"If you want those fingers..." She threatened. Ichabod released her with a sigh, but immediately stepped in front of her positioning himself between her and the door.

"Please, allow me a moment to explain." He bargained, buying time he hadn't yet figured out how to pay for.

"I allowed you several moments." She pointed out, eyes lowering to follow the fingers digging through her purse.

"And I offer my most sincere apology for each and every second I've squandered, but"

"—Oh you're sincere now," She razzed in a facetious tone, not bothering to look at him. She lightly chuckled to herself, pushing a few braids behind her ear that had slipped forward as she searched her purse. He reasoned he deserved it. After all he hadn't exactly been forthcoming but it didn't make it hurt any less, hearing her laugh, when he knew she wanted to cry, knowing all too well that she was capable of feigning indifference until she actually felt it.

"Move." She stated, finally pulling her keys out of her bag and closing her fingers around them.

"I am asking for an opportunity to explain." He petitioned, holding his palms up in submission.

"And I am asking you to move."

"Abbie." He pled. The pair stood quietly, neither of them backing down from their position.

"Fine," She conceded, eyes narrowing as her arms linked in front of her. "Explain."

Her curtness threw him for a moment, and he wondered if her keys in hand meant she was leaving no matter what he said. Will she listen this time? He wondered. And even if she did, how does he tell her that even though he knew how strong she was the only thing he could ever think of was protecting her, and making her happy. He couldn't imagine how sharing the incident from last night achieved either of those aims so he chose not to share it. How does he tell her he lied over something that was nothing, is nothing, and meant nothing without causing her concern that maybe it was. How does he explain that she's his purpose, and these are the types of matters he would never allow to touch her world? He had cleared the air with Miss Noreen after Bren left, and realized that the act was even more innocent than he'd first imagined, but it didn't appear that way.

"Primarily, rather I..." He paused, unable to speak past the expression upon her face. She wasn't going to make this easy. She looked at him like the respect she had for him had dwindled away to nothing, and she could hardly stand the sight of him. His shoulders sunk as he watched her lips quiver in an effort to seal in her sadness. She looked away, jotting a thumb along the edge of her eyes, stretched red with unshed tears.

"Apple, please." He begged, his own cerulean eyes growing droopy with regret. She wasn't giving him a fair chance. Her judgment was already heavy in her eyes before he'd even pled his case. "I'm trying."

"Just stop." She said, already beyond tired of waiting for him to untie his tangled ass tongue.

"Move." She demanded.

"I lied." He suddenly confessed, out of options.

Goose-bumps rose across her arms, even though she'd already known he was lying. There was something abundantly jarring in hearing him admit it.

"I know." She replied, pausing a moment to strengthen herself before asking the next question. "Why?"

"I was frightened, I" She knew that too.

"—Why?" She cut in, voice cracking.

"I do not know, because…" He quietly inhaled, "Because I feared that you would not believe the truth, or more accurately that I would not be able to convince you to receive it before you departed, and I did not wish for you to leave so…I lied."

Abbie quickly nodded her head while biting the inside of her lip. He hated himself in that moment, knowing he'd help to put such doubt in her eyes. He wondered if it would always be there a little now.

"Please do not look at me that way, as though I am someone I am not." He pleaded. "Nothing has changed I remain the same man." He maintained. "Abbie, I am still your husband." He said softly reaching a hand out to her. She quickly stepped back, leaving his hand in the air as he tried to touch her face. He awkwardly dropped it back to his side, dewy fingers once again taking flight.

"Since the very first day I met you, I believed you." She reminded him, memories of following him into a dark cave slipped through her mind. "So if you've done nothing Ichabod, why would you think I wouldn't now? When have I ever not believed you?"

Ichabod brushed some of the hairs that slipped from his ponytail away from his face while trying to figure out how to explain himself.

"Recently…quite often." He responded, much to her surprise. "I feel as though you scantly hear when I speak." He alleged before rephrasing. "In earnest, I am certain that while you do in fact hear me, you simply choose not to listen."

"Excuse me?!" Her eyes widened. "Wait a minute are you seriously going to stand here with a straight face and try to convince me that it's my fault you lied because I don't listen. Is that what you're trying to say to me right now?"

Ichabod shook his head.

"I never placed a modicum of fault nor blame upon you. I merely explained," His eyes quickly flitted toward the couch, pillow cushions still askew from when she'd searched through it ignoring him all the while, "that you've stopped listening to me. Treasure, it is not simply been today nor the sofa." He informed her, thinking back to when she first brought Jeremy home. "At Fort Michilimackinac, I told you then what I most needed the same as I have done countless times since that day, but you…you have simply chosen not to hear it. Abbie" He breathed reaching forward almost as if he forgot she didn't want him touching her. Her backwards step and tightened jaw quickly reminded him. He swallowed his hurt.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." She declared, vibrating with anger. "I can't. I can't believe…" She turned away from him and stared across the room, needing a moment to pull herself together.

"You set a marker, and neither hell nor high-water can discourage you from moving toward it." He said, almost finding it easier to say these things when she wasn't facing him. "I know better than any, it is one of the things I love most of you, but at times that marker is the only thing you are capable of seeing…your way becomes the correct way, the only way, and no amount of discourse nor reason persuades you away from it."

"So wait," She responds, spinning to face him. "I just want to make sure I get this part straight before I go."

Ichabod couldn't help but notice she was gripping her keys so tightly he worried they would cut her fingers. "What you're trying to tell me, is that you're entertaining other women and lying to me about it, but somehow it's my fault for not listening to you," she mimed air-quotes, "and what making you feel important?"

"Abbie!" He barked.

"No-no-no-no-no, you're right!" She said, waiving away his words in a voice far too calm and appeasing to be sincere.

"The notion"

"—Don't", she warned when he tried again to speak. It was only a second later but the calm and appeasement he'd just heard were already replaced with venom and a menacing glare. He held his tongue. "When I have a goal in mind I can become fixated on it, I work that way, I live that way, it's what makes me good at what I do, and frankly sometimes when I'm striving toward one thing, other things blow by me, and I don't always consider everything the way that I should. I don't." She shrugged, before nodding to herself. "But do you want to know what phrase I would have heard loud and fucking clearly even if you whispered it; Abbie I'm fucking someone, how about saying that Ichabod!" She snapped, before trying to shove her way past him. It didn't work, and in a flash she felt herself being pulled up into his grasp.

"—I beg your pardon!" He protested, hands gathering around the tops of her arms. "I have neither touched, nor so much as thought of touching another woman since you and I came together." He argued peering down into her eyes. "I have done nothing."

"Apple," He breathed, when she didn't respond right away. He was barely able to believe that after all of this time she still didn't understand how much he loved her. "I would never…" He earnestly pledged, terror filling every inch of his eyes, "I never would." He settled upon.

"Then why would you lie to me?" She asked, embarrassed by how thin her voice sounded. Like she was afraid to hear the answer.

He placed her heels back to the ground, and dropped his hands to her waist, muttering a small prayer of thanks that she'd allowed him to hold on to her.

"I saw the barrette and then the earring, and…Apple yesterevening during our telecommunication, I felt so close to you." He quietly disclosed, melting a little when the sparkle in her eyes told him that she'd felt the same way.

"I could never adequately convey how good that felt, feeling as though you were here with me, and I with you. I miss you. So terribly much." He breathed, speaking softly as he drew her deeper into his embrace. "These past weeks your love has felt much too far away and I've no wish to ever return to that feeling. I am not certain I can survive another month like the previous ones. I am not certain I can survive another day. I need you…sweet wife." He whispered, fingertips tracing the familiar path up the side of her neck. His head lowered to hers with a heavy sigh, and quickly he's unable to keep himself from leaving a soft smooch against her nose. "I need you Abbie." He said lowering his head in an effort to follow up with her lips.

"But," She interjected, pulling back from his kiss, eye's large with hesitation.

His shoulders slumped already sensing her objection.

"I offered Miss Kelly the use of my office for study breaks when I am not here." He confided.

"She often stays late to have access to the printers, her cubicle is as well lit and quiet as any library. The clip must have simply fallen from her person." He explained hoping he alleviated any of her concerns. Abbie was silent a few moments, her eyes sadder than he ever cared to see them again. He fell short of breath watching her nibble her bottom lip as his explanation seeped into her. She gently extracted herself from his embrace, and meandered over to the couch, taking a moment to straighten the cushions before letting her purse slip from her shoulder and come to rest on top of them. He breathed a little easier, realizing she'd decided to stay.

"Miss Kelly? Noreen." Abbie said turning around. Catching Ichabod in a lie had done nothing to settle her hormone driven emotions, but at least her bullshit meter had quieted significantly. Ichabod carefully stepped over to her, eyes never leaving hers.

"Was she also the one who was here last night?" Abbie queried.

"Yes."

"Is it customary for employees to stay so late?"

"I suppose it depends."

"Upon?" Abbie asked. She watched as his eyes caught on to the fact that this was an interrogation of sorts.

"Let me rephrase, have you had any other employees excluding Perry, and Ethan who have worked that late."

"No but Treasure, she was not working for the entire duration, as I said she—she was studying." He cautiously informed her. "I had no knowledge, whatsoever, that anyone remained in the building until she came to my office requesting assistance with her coursework."

"So after you helped her, she went home." Abbie grilled him, immediately feeling guilty for doing so. She didn't have time for this shit, there were real life criminals that she could have been interrogating making the world a better place. But no she was standing in the middle of his office policing his dick, this was not what she signed up for.

"Well actually," He swallowed, "she insisted upon assisting me with my workload because she worried that in disturbing me from my task, she had set me behind, and quite honestly she had." He answered in a definite tone.

"M'hm," Abbie hummed, quickly weeding through his words for the facts. "So she left around…." Abbie led, brows rising up as she lowered her chin.

"Four!" Ichabod rapidly supplied, eager to prove his innocence. "Well, a little after four." He amended, as her brow drew up. He felt his stomach start to ache as a flash of he and Noreen nestled against one another on the couch ran through his mind, he still didn't want to tell her. Abbie stared at him for a moment, as much as she's certain that he was being truthful in the things that he'd told her, something was still off. There was more, she wanted to ask what it was but the little voice in the back of her mind told her that if she needed to ask such questions she shouldn't be here. She hated being this girl, caught in this space of uncertainty and hated him for making her feel this way. There was a meditative gleam in her eye as she gnawed the inside of her cheek in time with the unsettling feeling gnawing away at her gut. Ichabod came closer to her, and wrapped his fingers around the sides of her shoulders seeing the confliction upon her face.

"Apple." He murmured, "I love you. Stop this."

Her head fell forward and for a half second she felt embarrassed almost. I really just cross examined this man after he said he didn't do anything. He wouldn't lie…oh, right, he already did. But he always had a way of erasing her doubt.

"Hurting you would be the equivalent of severing my own heart, I would sooner swallow crushed glass, dipped in poison." He breathed, the backside of his fingers delicately following the slope of her cheekbone. "Do you not know by now that you are the very reason for which I do all of the things I do? Apple never misunderstand that, and never for even a twinkling fail to remember it."

The deepest fibers of her bones shook and she wasn't the slightest bit cold. He'd seen to that by twining his arms around her and pulling her close. And it wasn't because something about his story felt off—which it did—but because in spite of that she still believed him. He looked her in the eye and answered her questions, and even though her mind was telling her to remain skeptical, her heart wrapped around his declaration and told her, this is true. If he were anyone else, she wouldn't have, were he anyone else she would have already been gone. Late night, another woman's shit all in his couch, lies. But it's his gangly, awkward, English accented ass telling her it was nothing, so she's standing there scared half to death because he says it isn't so, and she…believes. By the time his lips found hers all was nearly forgotten and she wondered how much of this is actually chosen as he had said. Choice felt like compulsion where he was concerned, like there was a secret language that only he and her heart spoke. Contrary to what he believed, it always listened.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt her soften in his arms. His adrenalin thumped down a few notches now that the threat of losing her had been thwarted.

"Treasure." He whispered, penning delicate kisses to her lips.

"You lied to me." She quietly said, lips raising into a subtle pout that caused his breath to catch. He drug his pointed finger down them and followed with a kiss.

"Yes," He quietly acknowledged, briefly closing his eyes in remorse, "and I so regret it, forgive me." He stated, rubbing his palm up and down her back, subconsciously letting it slip against the curve below her waist.

He leaned back a touch, gazing into her eyes, before dropping his lips to her forehead. Almost instantly a touch of security bled through her skin, and she reasoned his arms were the safest place on earth. For a moment the peace she felt was all encompassing and she couldn't imagine feeling higher, but it didn't last.

Even though the regret in his voice was unmistakable that little kernel of doubt that still existed began to pop and multiply inside of her. She'd always demanded honestly in her past relationships, why bother if we need to spend time checking and cross checking one another other. This would have been a dagger, and when she laughed she would have meant it. The thought of being a fool terrifies her, and a little part of her can't help but feel like she should have been nominated for the stupid bitch of the year award for how quickly she'd allowed him to right things. Why did she always make it so easy for him? Almost as if he sensed her doubt his lips dotted a timely trail of tender kisses from her forehead to her mouth. He held her to him, kissing her slower and deeper than anyone should have been allowed, and for a moment she imagines herself accepting that stupid bitch award to a rousing applause.

I just want to thank my husband Ichabod for always knowing what to say or do to shrink my brain cells, be it whispering sweet nothings into my ear, or thoroughly fucking any cells that deign to remain intact out of my body. Honestly without him, I wouldn't be the stupid bitch I am today.

Abbie cringed just as she was halfway through an imaginary bow. "I can't. She said, but still kissed him, struggling to gain control of her want and stop herself. Finally the strength found her, she raised her palms and stepped back. "I can't." She huffed, "I can't think straight when you touch me, and I need a minute."

He loved her, he said it, he showed it, and she could feel it when he looked at her…but it didn't matter. The kids couldn't have had a better father, Jenny a better brother-in-law, and there wasn't a being this side of God's creation with a more potent stroke, but none of that mattered either. She needed to know.

"Abbie?" Ichabod questioned, face growing curious as he watched her place her fingertips against her freshly kissed lips. She went silent as old trust issues and new insecurities made their way into the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong, and she only needs a second away from him to figure it out. His words replay in her head and she realizes he's told her about how the barrette ended up in his couch, but not the earring.

"Crane." She whispered, uncertainty inked inside of her eyes. He took one look at her and knew what he should have known all along, she wouldn't be happy until she'd put everything in order inside of her head. His fingers twitch as he searched for words, the ones that would do the least amount of damage to her heart and his credibility. Her eyes shifted to his restless fingers, but before he could bring them under control she'd come forward and encircled them in hers. Her free hand raised a soft caress to his cheek, the warmth of it rutted out his fear and replaced it with a safety only she could provide.

"Tell me why you lied?" Abbie asked. "I promise to listen…to it all." She specified. "I need to know."

He took her hands in his, eyes slowly closing as he raised her knuckles to his lips.

"I simply," A soft sigh slunk from his mouth. "Earlier when we first encountered one another from across the room, there was a particular look upon your face…in your eyes." He stated. "It was almost as if they levied some sort of a charge of misconduct, or wrong doing of some kind." He testified. "And yesterevening when we spoke upon the telephone, there was a notable difference in your tone after our call was interrupted by Miss Kelly, so…"

"So?" She said, impatiently shifting the bulk of her weight to one leg. He led her to the couch.

"Please" He said motioning for her to take a seat.

"I need to brace myself?" She asked. "I thought you said you didn't do anything."

"I haven't." He said, "You—I." He briefly glanced down at her feet, thinking of how she'd seemed uncomfortable standing a few seconds ago. He nearly launched into explaining himself but didn't feel he needed to justify something as innocent as offering her a seat.

"Apple" He eyed her warily as he found a firm voice, "please sit." He directed with a nod.

Abbie relented, and smoothly lowered herself to the sofa, crossing her legs, and propping an arm on top of the armrest. Ichabod joined her, taking her hands.

"After Miss Kelly and I had finished working, we were exhausted. I fell asleep in the exact location which you are seated." He described, placing a hand to the armrest on the other side of her. "When I did so she was there." He said pointing all the way to the other end of the couch.

"However when I awakened—I presume only a short while later—her head rested upon my shoulder." She heard him say.

"Upon your shoulder like how, what do you mean?" Abbie asked, concern creasing her nose as she removing her hand from his. She tries visualize what he was telling her, but can't.

"I woke because I felt a presence against me." He carefully explained, "By habit and I reason desire, I believed it to be you. I was dreaming of you." He emphasized. "She wears a scent that is quite similar to one you often wear. I called your name, and I placed a hand to her cheek expecting it to be yours, however when I looked down expecting to see your face there she was." He stated gingerly.

"You looked down and just poof she was there?" Abbie questioned flatly, throwing her hands up as she stood to her feet. He rushed to join her. "Just abracadabra huh?" She asked.

Ichabod stood silent not knowing what to say, and feeling he'd done nothing to earn the disappointment he saw stretched across her face.

"You promised to listen."

"I didn't promise to like it." She quickly informed him. Then it dawns on her.

"Did you kiss her?" She asked, mind sifting through all of the times she'd crawled into bed bedside him and he pulled her into a kiss without ever opening his eyes.

"Course not." He answered, but his response was to quiet to give her any comfort.

"Ichabod?"

"Nearly." He softly confessed, mouth open as he watched her head jolt back in disgust. Her arms folded across her chest.

"It was late," He explained, "For a brief duration, I thought her to be you. I pulled her into my arms, and…" He sighed, pausing to reflect upon of how terribly wrong things nearly went. "Well by some grace, something cut through my exhaustion and alerted me that she was not."

"Just one something?" Abbie asked. "I don't see too many physical similarities between the two of us."

He doesn't respond.

"I'm going to ask you a question and I need you to tell me the truth." She told him. "Did you think it was me, or did you just want it to be?"

For a moment he wondered if she was truly unsure as to the answer of her question, or if she'd said it only to hurt him. He knew what she was getting at. She'd seen things she shouldn't have, and knew in graphic detail about the women he'd been with when he was chasing a feeling he couldn't name. She thought he'd used them, and most of them he had, but they'd used him as well. Somehow she had glossed over that.

"I believed, her to be, you." Ichabod reiterated slowly. Abbie stepped forward searching his eyes for any sign of dishonesty. Only when she's certain there was none did she move on.

"And what happened next?"

Ichabod's brows penned in together. "Nothing." He replied. "I removed myself from the sofa and woke her so that she could go home. Abbie's poker face is erected and he can't help but worry it's a bad sign.

"Apple." He sweetly whispers, moving forward and clutching her by the elbows. He can almost see her working through equations inside of her head, this is what he hoped to avoid. "Please tell me the thoughts traversing this beautiful head of yours." He says fingers raising to cup her cheeks.

"I am," she sighs, "Just trying to figure out what all of this means."

"It means nothing." He quickly answered.

"I disagree." Abbie said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. He gently cradled her face in his hands, and brought her gaze to his.

"It means nothing." He restated in a slow stern voice, hoping she believed him this time. She blinked, before sighing through a subtle nod. He ultimately accepted it and dropped his hands.

"I'm assuming you spoke with her about it correct," Abbie questioned. "What did she say?"

"She stated that she has had an issue with sleep walking since she was a small child." Ichabod responded. "She reasoned she simply must have moved closer without noticing."

His mouth hung open slightly as he listened to Abbie laughing.

"And you believed that?" She asked, still chuckling. Her amusement came to a halt when she realized the answer to her own question. "Of course you did."

"Is there a reason that I should not?" He asked. Abbie's mouth opened, eyes sparkling as she silently shook her head.

"I shouldn't have to explain this to you, and I won't beyond this, she did it on purpose."

Ichabod sighed, as he rubbed his fingers across his eyes. "Treasure, take a gander around this room." He stated pointing to pictures of her and the kids, the boys' basketball hoop. "I know well that you have a great gift for sorting things out, but be reminded that I do as well, and between the two of us I am the one who was present. I believe your assumption is misguided…it was an innocent act."

"And I believe that you created a space in which she felt that her actions were appropriate, and going further would be well received." Abbie stated almost in a sing song manner. "When you questioned her about it, she lied, case closed."

"Created a space…have you gone entirely mad?" He stated stepping forward, placing a hand to her waist. "I can assure you I have done nothing to foster an environment that could have invited such attention, which is why as I stated I made certain to speak with her regarding the incident as an added precaution, at which time I discovered that her actions were unintentional." He repeated. "Case closed." He muttered shaking his head as his fingers caressed her face.

"You're acting like I'm the one who's talking crazy." Abbie retorted, feeling herself being drawn into his warm arms, and doing nothing to stop it. She was still a little dismayed that he flat out rejected her appraisal of last night's incident but there were some things people needed to learn for themselves. The mouth of the river was always easier to see when you weren't in it. She hoped he would chart it out before he found himself lost at sea.

"Crane." She whispered, as a kiss landed against her cheek, unable to let it go so easy.

'Hmm." He hummed pressing his lips to hers. She took a deep breath lifting both hands to his cheeks as she stared into his eyes. He knew.

"I shall never keep a thing from you again, even nothings." He quietly stressed, brows dipping in signaling how serious he was. His hands came up to cover hers as he pulled them from his cheeks and brought them to his lips.

"I promise." He added.

Abbie exhaled as he released her hands and looped his arms around her. "I miss you." He whispered, squeezing her even tighter. "I do not wish to fight, and I certainly do not wish to waste what precious little time we have alone discussing things of no importance." His lips curved into a smile as his soft kisses met with hers, and she could practically feel her spirit being lifted. "I miss you." He intoned again, almost as if he couldn't stop himself from speaking the thoughts inside of his head. He kissed her face, and told her how much he missed her again, too much elation in his bones to be embarrassed for literally fawning over her.

"I'm sorry Treasure." He apologized, hating that he hadn't trusted her to hear him. "Since our introduction you've been unfailingly and at times brutally honest with me." He muttered with a small smirk, before returning to a serious tone, "I know it might seem a minute thing, however given my history…" he paused slipping his thumb across her jaw, "it has meant more to me than you shall ever know, and I've no desire to see you without the same comfort, even for a moment." He pledged, before smuggling kisses from her lips that pushed warmth through his entire body. "I will never lie to you again Apple, I give you my word."

Abbie felt sick to her stomach from all the compliments he was paying her. It was like she'd waded into a hostile territory without ever really meaning to. Like she'd gotten into her car and drove west without stopping but still felt surprised when she happened upon the shore. She hadn't outright lied to him, but she was sure he wouldn't see it that way. How was he going to react when he found out about the baby? She knew how much he cared for her, and she was nearly certain he'd be excited. But he would naturally get around to asking her about the specifics, how and when she found out. How could she tell him she'd known for over a month? That others already knew too? Would he listen when she told him that at first she was worried he didn't want to have a baby, and by the time she felt secure enough to tell him she was worried that the baby wouldn't survive? Even now there were three weeks before she was technically out of the danger zone, but everything had been going so well she couldn't help but feel hopeful. The thing that now plagued her was fear, fear that her silence had diminished one of the things that had always kept them close. She recalled how alone Jenny recanted feeling after she discovered Frank had lied to her for weeks after Cynthia kissed him. It wasn't that he didn't have a good reason for withholding the information, he did, but Jenny was still hurt by it. Abbie knew how alone she'd felt after Ichabod had lied, and it had only been a matter of minutes. Her heart pounded as she searched for a way that they could emerge from this the same.

Ichabod pulled back, feeling Abbie's body tensing inside of his arms. She curled her lips into a deceptive smile, attempting to mask her nerves. She realized it worked even better than intended after he dropped his lips to hers, sucking them with a gentleness that her know how much she was loved. For the first time, she wondered if she deserved it. Her fingers shook as her palms flattened against his chest, using his steadiness to push herself away. Ichabod's brow dipped in as he snuck a finger beneath her chin and brought her gaze to his.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Nope, not at all, I am all kinds of screwed up.

"Yeah." She responded, putting on a brave face in the hope of chasing the worry from his eyes. She leaned back a bit again manufacturing a small smile. "You're coming to get the boys after camp right?"

He brought her back to him and dabbed a kiss to her forehead. "I am." He quietly responds.

"Okay well," She stated, once again extracting herself from his arms, "I'd better let you get back to work. I didn't mean to disturb you so long today."

"Your presence is the furthest thing from a disturbance I've ever encountered." He assured her, extending a mindful hand to her waist. "In fact I postponed my meeting with Bren and Perry the moment you walked through the door." He glanced down at his watch. "It's scheduled to take place in a short bit, but I am certain that I can push through it fairly quickly. Perhaps you might delay your departure…" His voice low and deep, the thickness of it let her know precisely what he wanted, "So that I might accompany you home."

Abbie's chin lowered towards the chest she hoped wasn't heaving as terribly as she imagined. Through the tops of her eyes, she caught his gaze too direct to be taken for anything other than what it was. His words always seemed to take root whether she wanted them to or not.

"Uh, that sounds nice," She says feeling warmth coloring her cheeks, in time with his fingers curling in at her side, "but I have some things I need to do so." Like figure out how I'm going to tell you all of the things I need to tell you. Maybe I'll make him a nice dinner, he's always more easygoing when his belly's full.

"Oh." He says, lips remaining parted from his genuine surprise. When she'd mentioned leaving he assumed without a doubt that she was merely being polite, the fact that she was actually leaving, and without him, hit him like a ton of bricks. It felt like she'd only just arrived, and they'd spent far too much time bickering and not nearly enough time making up. Somehow in his head he imagined they would spend the day together.

"I'm not angry if that's what you're thinking." She said, slipping a hand down his midsection before turning to gather her things. "Just tired. All of this just…" she smirked, "it took a lot out of me, and I have some things I should tend to sooo I should get on the road." She casually remarked tossing her hair back and pulling her purse across her shoulder.

When she glanced back at him it was impossible to miss his subtle aggravation and disappointment. He could see the plea for peace in her eyes, he kept his mouth shut and tried to give it to her.

"No it is…fine." He stated, clearing his throat, and smoothing out his clothes. She could tell from his demeanor it was anything but.

"Hey," she tried to explain, "This isn't about the earring," She stated sensing his thoughts. "I have some things I need to"

"—Of course it is the earring." He decides with a quick interruption, unable to hold his tongue the way he'd hoped to. He couldn't help but imagine how their day might have moved forward had she not discovered it. "Abbie do you not trust me?"

"I do."

"Then why do I feel as though I am being punished for something which I have not done." He asked, glaring at her.

"No one's punishing you here Ichabod." She insisted as her arms dropped from her purse strap and fell to her side. She couldn't blame him for being off base but this wasn't some sort of a pussy punishment. She could have told him that and let it go, but she'd heard something in his argument that is inherently flawed and felt compelled to bring it to the light. "And no you didn't do anything, but that is not to say that you are innocent in all of this."

"That is precisely what that says." He argued, side eyeing her.

My oh my, he really can't see the color of the water. She realizes as she stares at the serious expression blanketing his face. She wasn't going to bring it up again, but he did, so here goes.

"—She likes you, a lot, I saw that for myself." Abbie stated before shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe allowing her into your office all times of the night isn't the smartest thing to do."

"Pardon?" Ichabod asked, a few vertical lies springing up between his lowered brows. He was already so far past the incident it took him a minute to realize what she was referencing.

"Noreen." Abbie informed him, like it should have been abundantly clear. "Can you honestly not see the way she looks at you? I was here two minutes and I saw it."

His brows seem to sink even lower as he pauses in thought. "No." He replied deciding Abbie was exaggerating. "And though I understand your misgivings about the situation, and I do," He acknowledged holding up a hand, "as I said before there is nothing to it. I am her employer, she is my employee, nothing more."

Abbie remained silent, sober eyes bent toward the ground while her eyebrows lifted in response to how ridiculous she thought he sounded.

"Would you even be here had you not heard another woman's voice through the telephone yesterevening." She heard him question, breaking her from her thoughts.

Abbie glared up at him, having speedily travelled from being slightly annoyed to furious. A few minutes ago she was starting to feel drained by the day's events, and the promise of mayhem to come, but suddenly she was bursting with energy. NO CAPTAIN FUCKFACE! Because I would have gotten to ask you what I was trying to ask before our call was cut short. She inwardly broods. Her mouth was half open with the words on the way out of her mouth before her anger stole her voice. How could he reduce what she felt for him to this. She didn't understand how after everything she had been through with him, and everything she had gone through for him, he could insinuate that another woman could have an influence upon what she held in her heart for him. His thinking that anybody other than him or God could have a say in that was hurtful, and honestly quite surprising, so much so that she repeats his question in an effort to be sure she heard him correctly.

"Would I even be here?" She asked, trying to remain calm. "What do you think? You telling me you believe I wouldn't?"

Ichabod was quiet a moment, thinking about the way everything played out. His wife was always high in confidence, and hands down the most arrogant woman he'd ever encountered in his life, but their estrangement was creating insecurities in them both. He considered the way she threw a fit and was ready to terminate their telephone conversation when he merely mentioned Katrina, then he pondered the conversation they'd just had about Miss Kelly and the way she'd looked at them when she first arrived. He glared down at her, contemplating the way she showed up here today, unannounced and looking intoxicatingly gorgeous as she did.

"I believe that you are imagining things to be more than what they are." He answered stepping closer to her. "I believe that the reason you feel this way is because you have essientialy set me aside, and you are now growing concerned that another might have use for what you have discarded." He needled.

"Crane." Abbie warned, her quarrelsome tone was usually enough to make him check himself, but he wasn't hearing it.

"You know what you have in me. I am far from perfect and though I could never imagine myself to be worthy of you, make no mistake, I am the one for you. I am a good husband, and a good provider, and do spare me the talk of you being able to provide for yourself because you know as well as I that I am not referencing monetary provisions." He quickly clarified, raising a finger before her objection could even leave her mouth. He leaned closer, unable to ward off the intensity boiling through him but still mindful that they needed to be quiet.

"You are my ae-ter-nal-is" He said unable to find any other words that fully encapsulated the deep connection he felt to her. "And I provide." He hovered over her, informing her in an almost boastful tone. "I provide for your heart because the one inside of my chest beats for it." He grabbed her hand and held it over his heart. "Do you not feel it?" He asked, far too seductively to not know what he was doing.

Her eyelids sank, as she shuddered through the throbbing between her thighs. His warm breath crashed against her skin, and she was immediately thrown back to a time when he'd asked that same question. A part of her wonders if he'd meant it to happen that way. She could still remember how perfect he felt, all of his warm, hard frame sprawled out between her thighs. She'd tried to be quiet that day, almost testing herself to see if should could control her moans. She was doing spectacularly when those same four words rolled off his lips and caused her to come on the spot. Any other man would have been satisfied, but he didn't stop, he kept thrusting into her demanding to know exactly what she felt it until she screamed through another orgasm.

"You feel it," He said matter of factly, self-assurance twined in his breath. Oh yeah, he knew what he was doing. "How I provide for your body. And this is not conceit nor large-headedness speaking, I've no doubt you feel it because I feel it too Abbie. No other has come close to making me feel this way. Birds appear from thin air humming melodies inscribed with love when you but lay a hand upon me, and when we…" He paused, a shiver ghosting through him, Abbie looked up, watching as his jaw tightened, "new heavens are formed." He finished, and released her hand. She was wide open.

"You soul is the other part of mine, and the only thing I've ever wanted was to provide for it. I believed I did that."

"You do." She pleaded, but the bleakness in his eyes told her he didn't believe.

"I need you," He said sadly, "I believed that you needed me."

"—I do need you, you know that." She cut in, feeling insulted and guilty all at once. "Even before…" Images of their first kisses, and confessions of love slipped across her mind. Her thoughts settled somewhere around the lazy boat ride in Oregon where she told him she needed him for the first time. "I've always needed you, have you suddenly forgotten everything." She questioned.

"Much to the contrary, I doubt I shall ever be capable of forgetting a single a moment I have shared with you, but the more I look upon our predicament I cannot help but reason that you have." He claimed with a quiet brokenness.

Abbie was bone tired.

They stood regarding one another through doleful gazes for a spell, both of them almost afraid to continue speaking. A good part of Abbie was fuming at Ichabod's insinuation, but when she searched her heart she understood how he'd drawn his conclusion. She could live a thousand years and never forget how much she needed him, but unfortunately she'd grown accustomed to surviving without the things and people she needed. Ichabod stepped over to his desk, his hands in his pockets, and head bowed as if there was something on his shoes more important to look at than her. Abbie stood watching him, arms knitted together as she warmed herself from the breezeless chill travelling the room. He traced a few leaves of the plant she'd brought him before turning and sitting against the edge of the desk. His eyes stayed trained upon the floor as he searched his thoughts.

"Your fall from grace to me is an impossibility, and yet mine seems to be such a short distance." He proclaimed after a moment, still unable to forget how she was ready to walk out of the office without a second thought. "It terrifies me, and…" He raised his eyes to hers, "I am not certain I can continue on in this manner."

"Oh. I see." She stated, heart pounding from being caught completely off guard. She didn't see. She didn't understand what he was saying to her but it sounded a lot like a threat or a gentlemanly farewell…like he was as done with her as she was with this conversation. Her breath shallowed, she needed more air but was worried that anything deeper would upset the terrible ache in the center of her chest. She had absolutely no idea what to say in a moment like this but felt compelled to say something.

"I want you to know that it isn't true…that bit about your fall from grace, Ichabod." She say hoping he would look up at the sound of his name, he didn't. "It isn't true." She said anyway.

"Isn't it?" He asked, a deep frown settled across his face as he continued to stare at the carpet. He heard what she was saying but knew for himself that the past few months he'd felt the earth cracking like eggshells beneath his feet when she was near. He'd been trying to do everything right, and every time he saw her he was reminded of how much their separation seemed to agree with her. She was radiant, every inch of her seemed to be imbued with life and vibrancy, while he was paled over in summer, scarcely able to sleep or eat. Still here he was in the middle of his office the happiest he had been in weeks, simply because she was here, it mattered not that they were arguing, that for half of her visit she wouldn't let him near her, she was here, and now she wanted to leave. He would never understand how she did so well without him.

Abbie expected him to say more than the isn't it he'd replied, but he doesn't, and it feels like another sign that he's done. She wanted to come right out and ask him if that's what he was saying, that it was over, but her bravery waned. What if he says yes?

"You're saying all of these things right now…" She tentatively began, holding onto her elbows for courage, "and I'm trying to understand if you really mean them. Do you honestly believe that I'm here for something other than you, or that I don't hold you in high estimation because…." Because I love you too much to allow you to feel unvalued, because you have me in ways I never knew I could be obtained, because I hold you so high that even if you did fall from grace, it would take three lifetimes for you to hit the fucking ground. Ichabod look at me! She inwardly screams.

"Crane I love you." She breathed.

"I love you." He nods, in thought, hands folded at his lap. "And yet."

Her eyes welled with water, she pulled her lips apart to allow a ragged inhale. "And yet?"

He sighed and brought his gaze to hers.

"You questioned what I believe, and this is it." He stated, pushing himself up off the desk and moving toward her. "I believe that throughout our separation you have been going about your life, living and doing the things that you need to do for you, and the children and…I understand it, I respect it. But you have indeed set me aside."

"That is not fair." Abbie whispered afraid to put weight behind her voice.

"I agree, but it is true. Yesterday you heard a woman's voice upon the telephone and you began to worry that perhaps there are others who may not mind being positioned in your shoes, and low and behold you arrived here today. Yet the moment you realized that I am still uncompromisingly yours." He nodded towards the purse draped over her shoulder in preparation for retreat. "Well."

For a brief moment Abbie has to stop herself from turning around to see if someone else had entered the room. She didn't hear the door open but it had to have because who the fuck did he think he was talking to. Her best friend did not speak to her that way. The father of her children did not speak to her that way. The man she chose to marry did not speak to her that way. Especially on the heels of telling her that he'd just been sleeping on the couch with another woman. The tears that were building in the back of her eyes evaporated from the heat now growing through her. Just that quickly he'd taken her to the other extreme.

"Is that right?" She snapped with a low fury, feeling her ears start to burn. "Let me tell you something."

"—There is no need." He said, sharply cutting her off, taking confident command of his voice. "This has not been your failing, it has been mine."

"What?"

Annoyance twisted Abbie's features as he stepped closer, so close that she imagined a deep breath would cause them to touch. He glared down at her, all shoulders and scowls cutting through her in a fashion that simultaneously made her want to slap and fuck the shit out of him. She knew then her hormones and emotions were in cahoots trying to see who could drive her crazy the fastest.

"I understand now. You've done what you must, rest assured that moving forward I shall do the same."

Abbie wanted to scoff at his hard bitten tone, but quite honestly she could feel her heartbeat in her throat. What is it that he thought he failed to do she wondered, treat her like shit, because that's exactly what it sounded like he planned to do to rectify it.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She asked, only to watch him shrug flippantly and step away before he smugly replied.

"What is it you so often say? Oh yes, I believe I can show you better than I can tell you." He boldly sneered.

Abbie's mouth dropped open before a little spitfire inside of her told her to close it. She was rattled, and in an instant felt herself go on autopilot and her defenses took over. Throughout her life she always seemed to say or do the right thing when she was attacked or threatened, but it never really felt like her, it always felt like a colder, less feeling version of her. A version that never stumbled upon words because she never gave two shits about what others thought of them, or how they were made to feel because of them. She calmly closed the space between them and stood in front of him, head tilting back as her chest edged against his stomach, getting as close as he'd gotten to her.

"Well why don't you show me right now." She challenged, sick and tired of his riddles and smart ass mouth.

Ichabod looked down at the glower covering his wife's face and could easily feel the anger bubbling through all five foot one of her. Some people grew loud and screamed when they became angry, and there were occasions upon which she raised her voice, but when she was truly incensed she was always so calm. His eyebrow arched as he took note of her cool and collected deportment, she was furious. He knew that her presence inside of his space was supposed to be a threat, but he didn't feel threatened at all. Turned on more like it. He licked his lips, toying with the thought of kissing her. She would undoubtedly slap him, he knew, but it was a wage he'd willingly pay a thousand times over. However, he was more concerned with what would happen after she slapped him, would she allow him to kiss her then, or would she leave. He couldn't take the risk.

"Soon." He stated before inching back.

"Why not now?" She muttered pointing her finger in his face knowing precisely how much he hated it.

"Abbie." His fingers encircled her arms just as there was a rapid knock at the door. He released her.

"No-no-no you said you were about to show me something," She grabbed his arm before he could walk away. "You have all the opportunity in the world to do so right now, I'm"

"—A moment." Ichabod requested, stepping back and erecting a single finger silencing her midsentence. She stood staring daggers into his back until he opened the door.

She tried to use the interruption to cool down but she was too far gone, and the time she had to think only caused her to work herself up more. Who in the hell did he think he was talking to like that? She wondered, eyes pitted on the skyline as her toe tapped a steady tune upon the carpet. Talking about I set him aside like I hadn't told him the last time we were together that the door to my heart and my bedroom were open to him. Did he forget that this hard line was drawn by him? He penciled this shit in. I'm not the one who said it had to be all or nothing, that was him trying to control everything as per usual, now he's pissed at me because it didn't work. Fuck him.

A wave of sadness overtook her anger as her mind replayed some of the other things he'd said. I can't believe he honestly said something to me about other females wanting my position. Who the fuck does he think he is, and who in thee fuck does he think I am? God, what are you thinking Ichabod?

She turned and glanced at him, watching as he discussed something with Ethan in front of the door. A moment later he returned to the center of the room and began slipping into his suit jacket.

"Crane." Abbie's eyes narrowed, head dipping to the side as she realized he was really about to walk out of the room after saying everything he'd just said. She understood he was working but that didn't seem to bother him when he wanted to fuck. It was his company, if he told someone to wait, they would wait.

There's a matter that begs my immediate attention." He said affixing his jacket buttons.

"I should not be long, perhaps you might help yourself to a drink while you wait." He said, pointing to the scotch and rum selections he had set up on the other side of the room. "And do try to calm yourself before I return." He stated securing his final button.

A feather could have knocked her over as she watched him swagger out of the room, and close the door behind him.

Five minutes later Ichabod walked back toward his office with thoughts of the enigma that was Abbie circling his mind. A small grin touched his lips when he thought about how frustratingly mad she drove him, how beautiful she'd looked just a moment ago, even though she was ornery as the dickens. He couldn't recall ever knowing someone who stood upon their own thoughts and principles as steadfastly as she did. But it saddened him little to know that her inability to give weight to the arguments of others stemmed from her lack of practice with trusting. She toggled between humility and bullheaded arrogance at a rate that he couldn't quite comprehend, but somewhere in the middle of all of that she'd stolen his heart. He winced to think of some of the things he'd said to her, even though he meant them. He was hurt and frustrated from her disinterest in 'spending the day with him', and he wished he would have let his emotions settle before they argued. If she couldn't stay he'd hoped she would at least extend the invitation for him to accompany her. How could he be expected to focus upon anything else after her visit?

He opened the door to his office with an apology already upon his lips, ready to patiently fight every battle she waged until he could return home. Only Abbie was no longer where he left her.

"Abbie?" He called striding toward the bathroom in search of her. He rapped upon the bathroom door, calling out her name until he decided to twist it open when she failed to respond. His heart rate kicked up as his eyes darted around the empty room. He left the bathroom wondering if perhaps she stepped out for a bit, and quickly set out toward the door to question whether she'd left word with Danielle. That's when he saw them from the corner of his eye, and wondered how he'd missed them before. Her black heels sitting neatly on top of his desk. He slowly stalked toward them, his words flooding back through his mind with an unending echo. Perhaps there are others who would not mind being positioned in your shoes. He lifted them up to find a handwritten note underneath.

Give these to the bitch you deem capable of standing in them –Abbie.

"Oh God."