Haven't updated this fic in a while, but here is something. :) Inspired by Rihanna's "Love On the Brain."

"What, Crane?" Abbie said.

He stood in her doorway with a tilted head.

"Did you fuck him? Mr. Reynolds?"

Rum made him an honest man, one who didn't bite his tongue for his own sake.

"I don't owe you a damn thing, Ichabod."

They were over. Broken up for a week now, but on and off in the past six months since they started their relationship. They could never get their shit together.

"Did you show him your trick?"

"So what if I did? It's not your fucking business. Leave."

He smirked. "That was only intended for me, you know?"

"Everything I do isn't for you, Crane."

"Why do you insist upon keeping me at a distance? You only show me what you want me to see. I'm not pleased with just your bits and pieces."

"You are not entitled to me, Ichabod."

"No, I am not." He sighed, kissed her palms. "I am sorry I caused you to feel that way. Can I come in, love?" His lips skimmed her wrists. Then he sucked her neck.

This was what they did. They stood outside each other's door, apologizing and seducing, until they argued again and dragged their feet to the same spot for sorry speeches.

She kissed his lips, tugged him inside by his shirt, and into her bedroom, where she fucked him until he couldn't breathe. And she did her trick, a crazy ass yoga pose that gratified them both and made them loose balance.

They caught their breathe.

"Ready for Round 2?" she said.

He chuckled as he leaned against the headboard. "We aren't done?"

She giggled. "Not even close."

He kissed her forehead. "You, my dear, are intoxicating. But would you mind if we rested for a moment?"

"No."

He tried to cuddle, but she wasn't with that shit. There had to be at least four inches of space between them. The most he could do was hold her hand. That was her rule. One of them. That's one of the reasons why they fought every week or so. She wasn't comfortable with that type of intimacy.

"I would like to ask you a question, Abbie."

"I didn't sleep with Danny. I only said that as dig. Sorry."

There have been moments when she was tempted to have a one-night stand with him. He was her ex. They had a fling in the FBI academy, but they called it quits when he became her fucking boss. She wasn't that type of woman. He offered more than once since they started working together professionally. Each time, she refused. It just wasn't appropriate, though it would've been easy to do. They fucked first and hardly asked questions later at the academy. Abbie didn't want any emotional attachments. Danny wanted them to be more and was disappointed when she didn't return his feelings. He respected what she wanted though, even now.

Crane didn't understand that. He didn't get the no-emotional-attachment thing and wanted to know about her family, friends, job, and every insignificant detail about her. One day, he asked her if she had a favorite pair of socks. Damned socks. Who the fuck asked that?

She often hurt his feelings, told him not to ask dumb ass questions. That was when he decided to get all pissy with her, told her he'd like to know and that he wasn't leaving until she gave him an answer. After all, they did fuck for two hours. The least she could do was tell him a couple of facts about herself. He didn't hide anything from her. That was the part where she kicked him out of her apartment, and they didn't speak for days.

"I am relieved about that. However, that wasn't what I wanted to ask."

"You know rule two."

He could ask about her hobbies, her job, fucking socks if he wanted. Her parents and emotions were off the table. That was the rule two.

"There is nothing more ridiculous than these rules. How are you benefitting from them?"

"You think you're such a smartass, don't you?"

"Indeed. It is not a personal inquiry."

"But it leads to revealing personal information."

"You have to answer, Abbie. That's also a part of your rule."

She sighed. "They protect me, alright?"

"From?"

"Break is over." She straddled him, kissed his lips.

"I will find out one way or the other."

She gripped him. He moaned. "If you aren't tongue tied first."

"I—" He groaned into her neck. "Damn."

"Thought so."

"I love you," Crane said in her hair.

"You say this literally right before orgasm?" She got off him, not even bothering to climax anymore.

"What do you have against it? It wasn't a personal—"

"I know." She sighed. "You aren't the type to let it be, are you?"

He just insisted on making it harder and harder for her, didn't he? He never just went with things. Never. It was frustrating.

"Not in regards to you."

"Do you really? Love me?"

He kissed her cheek. "Yes. I'm not expecting to hear the words in return."

"You're not just saying this because the sex is good?"

He stared right at her. "No."

She didn't know what to say, how to even discuss this topic. The last people who said they loved her were her parents. Love wasn't selfish; love wasn't abandonment. Her mama killed herself and her dad left her and her sister. They ended up in foster care with abusive, shitty foster parents. But then they met Corbin and he was more like a father figure to them. He trained Abbie to become a lieutenant for the Sleepy Hollow Sheriff's Department before she went to the FBI. He's retired now. She still has pie with him on Sundays for apple pie and ice cream. He showed her an idea of what love was supposed to be. Still, she couldn't fully let anybody in. Not even him. Barely her sister.

"It's nice of you to say that."

"You don't believe me."

"I didn't say that. You're putting words in my mouth."

"Do you believe me?"

"Crane."

"Do you?"

"No."

"Why can't you open yourself up to me?"

"I opened my legs for you, didn't I?"

"Damn it, Abbie." He shook his head, got out of bed to put on his boxers. "I want more than your body. Why can't you be honest with me? What's so horrifying about confiding in me, about being vulnerable?"

She couldn't take it anymore. Here he was. Again. Pushing, pushing, pushing.

"Shut the fuck up. You don't have the right to know everything about me, Ichabod. It's always why can't I do this or why can't I do that. You're never satisfied. Stop wanting to know me so much."

"Who broke you?"

The blue crept in again. The grief and sadness for what she lost, the lonely gray feeling from her parents and her treatment while being in the system. She hugged herself, got into bed, and pooled the comforter around her.

"People."

He sat beside her, took her hand. "I'm here."

She looked at him, really looked at him. There was kindness in him, nothing malicious, nothing to hurt her. She breathed, squeezed his hand.

"My parents. My foster parents, too." Of course, she cried. She felt ashamed for it, though she shouldn't. Her crying wasn't weak. Her foster parents made her believe it was, so she toughened up. Tried not to feel until she was completely by herself. This never happened in front of anyone, except her sister. Even that was rare.

"They hurt me. I don't know how to heal from that."

"Abbie, my love. I'm so sorry for whatever it is they did to you. I won't ever know how much that took to say, how much I took from you. "

She wiped her face. "Your greedy ass."

He chuckled.

"It does feel good to acknowledge it, to give it voice, you know?"

"I'm proud of you. I can't heal you myself. All I can do is promise to listen and encourage you. Will you let me?"

She nodded. "I can't tell you it all tonight, not tomorrow, not next week, next month. Sometimes I won't tell you anything. You have to respect that, Crane. That means no further questions until I'm ready to talk about more."

"Understood. I am sorry for pushing so much."

"You got what you wanted?"

"Yes. I understand you a little better. That's all I wanted."

"What about what I wanted? Like privacy. I'm allowed to keep something for me."

"You are. Yet, if it's hindering growth in our relationship, then we have to talk about it at some point. I want nothing more than your privacy. At the same time, I want your honesty about what bothers you. You don't have to hide. You can trust me."

She got that he had good intentions and meant well. Did he go about it wrong or do too much to get there? Absolutely. They'd just have to take it slow for now.

"We'll work on it. Compromise."

"I can agree to that." He kissed her cheek. "And I do love you."

"I'll slowly start to believe it."