Odes to Our Esteemed Captain and His Most Divine Leftenant
Summary: My first attempt at Sleepy Hollow fanfiction, just in time for Sleepy Holloween Week. All Ichabbie, all the time. Flashbacks, tender moments, and compromising situations, wrapped in maudlin songfic for your reading pleasure. Various and sundry situations and settings. Rated T/M.
Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me, although I'd quit my job for the opportunity to join the Sleepywriters. (Call me!)
Rating: M
(Note: I know that some of my readers aren't here to read anything about Katrina. I get it – not a fan, either, and I'm staunchly Ichabbie. Just bear with me… there's a reason why I have her here, and a method behind this madness… trust me!)
Primetime
(Day 3: Romance)
This was all Jenny Mills' fault.
Abbie prided herself on being a modern, liberated woman. It wasn't as if she was some prude. Her rank in the department and her status as a detective working on the strange series of supernatural events around Sleepy Hollow allowed her to wear casual clothing. Abbie liked to wear clothes that allowed freedom of movement, but she liked her form-fitting jeans, ladies' cut t-shirts, and form-fitting jackets. Her clothes fit her like a second skin, and she didn't mind the men's eyes following her, either.
But now Katrina of all people was part of their little group of Witnesses and demon fighters, disrupting the easy camaraderie that they'd all shared over the past year. Katrina was as enamored with the modern world as her husband was wary of it. She embraced food, fashion, music, and popular culture.
Usually, Abbie steered clear of Katrina Crane… at least, as clear as she could of her partner's wife. Katrina had taken up residence with Ichabod in the little cabin, and she couldn't help but feel annoyed by that.
Wish they'd both get jobs somewhere, find a house where they actually pay the bills, and move out, thought Abbie, ignoring the fact that she didn't mind it at all during the year that Ichabod lived there alone. Back then, it was still her mentor's home, a sanctuary from the apocalypse that threatened them all.
At least it wasn't the Cranes' love nest before Katrina returned.
Although Abbie wasn't a fan of Katrina, Jenny was. (Of course.) If they weren't fighting all of hell itself these days, she would've killed her little sister for introducing Katrina to pop music, especially some of Abbie's workout faves.
A few days before the New Year, Abbie came by the cabin to discuss strategy for defeating a particularly nasty siren that was killing young men who ventured too close to Sleepy Hollow's creeks and streams. When she entered, she found Jenny and Katrina having a friendly dispute over a familiar Beyoncé video on the screen of a newly purchased television.
"What are you two going on about?" asked Abbie, after she muted the strains of "Freakum Dress."
"New Year's Eve," laughed Jenny, looking more animated than Abbie could remember. "Irving's scored tickets to this incredible party in New York, so we're all going. Katrina and I are going dress shopping, and I had to show her this video."
"But you hate Beyoncé," Abbie pointed out. "You're more of a Radiohead girl."
"Well, maybe I've grown up a bit since then," Jenny snarked back. "Katrina wants to spice things up. Seems Ichabod's been too stressed to… ah…"
Abbie raised an eyebrow. This was an interesting development.
Katrina reddened. "I assure you, Miss Mills, Ichabod is not impotent! It's just that many unfortunate events surrounding my appearance in this time have yet to be resolved…"
"So my sister's suggesting that you put your freakum dress on," Abbie finished dryly.
Jenny winked and sang, "Every woman's got one!"
"Not true," Abbie deadpanned. "I don't. And I doubt that Katrina, as much as she's loved our time at American Apparel and Urban Outfitters, is looking to wear what in her time would've been like going out in a corset."
"It's quite all right," Katrina assured. "I am quite eager to do whatever it takes to help Ichabod better fulfill his mission."
Of course you are, lady. That included staying with your headless ex-fiance for months, didn't it? Abbie thought.
"I see from the look on her face that Lieutenant Grace Abigail Mills disapproves," Jenny smirked. "You'd better be nice, sis, or we'll make sure that your dress is the tiniest and the tightest."
"I'd like to see you try to force me into it," Abbie said. "A sensible top and a pair of jeans are what I'll be wearing out, thanks."
~sleepy~sleepy~sleepy~
Because they were late, she'd actually allowed Ichabod to drive. And that was the least of Abbie Mills' concerns as darkness fell that fateful New Year's Eve.
She was the only one in a bad mood. Part of it had been because Katrina had refused to take the front passenger seat, insisting that Abbie ride up front with Ichabod.
"I believe you call it… shotgun?" Katrina said triumphantly.
"Yes," Abbie said, forcing a smile. But when Ichabod also smiled at his wife, Abbie had to tamp down the urge to put the other woman's eyes out.
Mills, you're being unreasonable, sensible Abbie told herself as Jenny and Katrina sang along to the radio, traded stories, and played truth or dare as if they were teenagers instead of key players in a supernatural war. Meanwhile, Ichabod drove and kept his thoughts to himself…
…while Abbie kept trying to remind herself that the festive gold sequined dress that Jenny and Katrina had forced her into really wasn't giving her a wedgie. Her hair was natural tonight. Usually Abbie straightened it for work, but she loved the fullness of the curls piled atop her head. But it was freezing cold, so her new 'do was covered with a scarf.
And the damn dress the women forced down her throat… well, actually around her petite curves… was completely covered by a giant, knee-length North Face winter coat. But when they reached their destination, the coat would have to go…
…and Abbie would be practically naked. On display for every eye in the place to ogle.
Too bad that the one pair of eyes she secretly wouldn't mind ogling her was very married to the annoying creature who'd suddenly become BFFs with her baby sister.
Not about this life, thought Abbie.
"Your turn, Ichabod. Truth or dare?" Jenny was asking.
"Truth," came his reply. "For I know better than to trust you with a dare, Jennifer Mills."
Abbie couldn't help smirking at that.
"So what is your truth, Ichy?" Jenny teased, knowing he hated the nickname.
"My truth is… that Katrina and I share a particular… taste in common."
He looked into the rearview mirror, and Abbie watched as their eyes met.
Gag me now, she thought. Why did I ever agree to go out with these idiots, when there are a half dozen men back in Sleepy Hollow who would've agreed to show me a good time?
And now I have to watch my partner who I refuse to catch feelings for make eyes at his lost-and-found magenta haired American Apparel wearing wife.
Didn't sign up for this shit.
"Abbie," Ichabod was saying, which snapped her out of it.
"Hm?"
"Truth or dare?"
"Truth. The truth is that everyone in this damned SUV is getting on my last nerve, and seeing as this is my vehicle and I'm an officer of the law, this stupid game ends right now."
Silence.
"See, that's your problem, Abbie!" Jenny exclaimed. "No sense of humor. Damn."
"You think I haven't got a sense of humor?" Just then, Abbie was ready to get out of her car. "Watch this."
She reached over to switch on the sirens.
"Hold on to your powdered wigs, girls," said Ichabod, a wicked twinkle in his eye.
And they soared down the highway.
~sleepy~sleepy~sleepy~
They had great tickets at one of the hottest clubs in New York City, inside an exclusive hotel. Ichabod tossed the keys to the valet, and parted the crowd for Abbie, Jenny, and Katrina as they headed to the VIP section. There, they met Frank Irving, and a good friend of his who lived in New York, a woman he introduced as Yolanda.
The second Ichabod opened her mouth, Yolanda turned into a puddle.
"Is it you?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. "It is you! I'm Yolanda from NorthStar, Mr. Crane!"
Ichabod raised Yolanda's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. "It is my honor to make your acquaintance in the flesh, Miss Yolanda."
Abbie could take no more. For some reason, ever since Katrina's return, all the women who regularly tossed their panties in her partner's direction were like splinters in her side.
Tonight? She felt rubbed completely raw.
There was a special coat check for the VIPs, and she was glad to get rid of her voluminous coat and scarf, turning away from the booth, and the irritating Cranes.
A whistle sounded in her ear. God, she wasn't in the mood. Whirling around, she came face to face with her younger sister.
"Is your period on the way or something?" Jenny asked. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"If you don't know, Jen? I don't know what to tell you," Abbie said.
Inexplicably, Jenny shook her head.
"Oh, I know what's wrong with you. You're jealous."
"Jealous? Of who?"
"Of any woman who comes within an inch of tall, handsome, and British. Also known as Ichabod Crane." She pulled Abbie aside. "There's no need to be jealous, you know. He and Katrina have an… understanding."
"Look, what you are saying is crazy," Abbie snapped. "And, even if it weren't, I don't share."
"You wouldn't be sharing Ichabod. Not with Katrina." Jenny's voice lowered to a whisper. "I have it on good authority that they aren't sleeping together. In fact, they haven't been together since they arrived in the modern world."
"They've been in that cabin for months."
"As roommates. Nothing more."
Abbie clucked her tongue. "Unless death and Purgatory really did kill their libido, Jenny, I doubt that very seriously."
"Trust me on this one." She squeezed her older sister's shoulder. "And while you're at it, drag your lanky sidekick out there on the dance floor. You just might be surprised."
Abbie wasn't all that surprised. Besides Katrina and Jenny's hijinks, she now had to contend with a smitten Yolanda slobbering all over her partner. She was angry with herself for catching feelings for the most basic guy in the universe… he isn't even that cute!
It must be all the Outlander episodes I've been marathoning lately, Abbie thought wryly. Has me going a bit insane, looking for some grand time travel romance. What kind of fool am I? My name is not Claire!
The waiter circled back around, taking all their orders.
"Something else for you, miss?"
"Another Long Island," said Abbie. "And keep 'em coming."
When the waiter left, Yolanda, Katrina, and Jenny went to the ladies' room. Ichabod caught Abbie's eye.
"Miss Mills, I must compliment you on your choice of attire. You look…"
Words seemed to fail him for the first time that night, which tipped Abbie's annoyance over into anger.
"You know what, Crane? Go fuck yourself."
With that, she stood up, left the VIP section, and made her way to the middle of the dance floor. Within a moment, an anonymous man came to dance with her to the strong beat of the music. He was handsome, almost as tall as her partner…
But his eyes were green, not sky blue…
Abbie was done with dancing, and with the party. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sleep, to curl herself up and cry, or to punch everyone in the face.
Maybe she'd do all three.
But first, she was going to find the ladies' room to reapply her lipstick.
The first two bathrooms that she checked had extremely long lines. Giggly, chatty, flighty ass women filled with too much champagne? No, thank you. Abbie would pass.
After asking a couple of the staff about a quicker place to tinkle and powder her nose, she was directed to what looked like a boardroom for the establishment that had its own en suite bathroom according to the harried waiter who pointed out the directions. Abbie thanked him and pushed the suite's door open.
There were no lights in the boardroom, but there were some lights on in what she assumed was the ensuite powder room…
…and there were also distinctive sounds.
Abbie almost backed out of the way, until she heard a very familiar giggle, then heavy breathing, and a feminine moan.
"Ah! Merciful heavens, that feels good! Ahhhh!"
Of course. Jenny is blind. Understanding my ass… Katrina's understanding is that she's marking her territory. Reminding Ichabod that it's all about her, not Yolanda, or Jenny…
Or me.
Lost in her thoughts, Abbie quietly made her way out of the boardroom, and back into the empty back corridor…
…and almost ran straight into Ichabod…
…whose arms immediately closed around hers.
"Whoops, sorry, Crane… I…"
Before she could stammer out an appropriate excuse, or to figure out how there were two Ichabods (because not again!), his mouth claimed hers in a hot, sweet kiss. Abbie's entire body responded from head to toe. It was the first time they'd kissed, and oh, what a kiss it was.
Abbie pulled back reluctantly.
"You really are Ichabod." She glanced back at the boardroom door, then reached underneath the tight sequins for the gun holstered on her thigh…
"One moment, Abbie." His voice was a deep rumble that made her nipples tighten against the straining fabric of the bodice of her dress, and moisture fall on her hand…
…and his. For he'd covered his hand with hers to stop her from drawing her gun.
Okay, after all the times the ground has done funny things over the past few years, today would be the day it decides not to open up and swallow me whole. Because my partner, fellow Witness, best friend, and secret crush just felt the clear evidence of my arousal less than two minutes after our first kiss…
Way to go, Abigail. This is what comes of giving up casual sex to "find yourself." It's made you desperate.
Not to mention horny as hell.
Turning back to the matter at hand, she whispered, "There's another Ichabod here, or else you're standing here with me while you're having sex with your wife."
Ichabod looked slightly embarrassed, but mostly amused.
"My wife is indeed having sex. Most fortunately for both of us, it is not with me."
Now that was a surprise. "Do you know who she's with?"
"I do indeed. And before you ask me to share, Leftenant, please know that I have been sworn to secrecy."
Abbie let out a puff of air. "So Jenny was right. You and Katrina are married in name only."
"At least until we figure out the means of divorcement in this world. Remember the binding enchantment that Katrina's coven cast during our ceremony…"
"Restrains Henry from doing his worst," Abbie finished. Of course she'd known that. It was why once Katrina left Abraham, they'd arranged for Ichabod to live with her in the first place.
"Yes. But in our hearts, Abbie, we have parted as friends. We have since reconciled ourselves to our new circumstances. Katrina and I merely share lodgings."
"So you're free."
"Not since the day I first laid eyes on one Grace Abigail Mills."
He tilted her chin up.
Abbie smiled softly at him. "We have a lot to talk about, Ichabod."
"We shall talk at the start of the New Year. For now, there is the matter of this… what did Jenny and Katrina call these infernal contraptions?... freak-um dress you have got on."
Perfect little teeth tugged at her bottom lip. "You like it?"
"Indeed I do. But I must confess that I would like it far better on the floor of your chambers… a matter we shall have occasion to discuss soon."
His lips pressed against her ear.
"You make me lose all sense of propriety, madam. All I have thought on for months is doing this."
Moving his hand away from hers, his fingers trailed up her silken bare thigh, over her mound to the landing strip that led to the part of her she wanted him most.
"Do it," Abbie hissed. "Please."
"Despite your choice in attire, my Abigail, I will not besiege you in a back hallway like a whore in a brothel." His fingertips moved the barely there strip of fabric of her thong aside and found her aching clit. "My ardor for you has built since not long after our first meeting. Upon encouragement from Katrina and Miss Jenny, I have secured more appropriate quarters for us."
Abbie could no longer speak. All she could do was cling to Ichabod with all her might as two of his fingers slid easily inside her cunt, while his thumb continued to tease her clit.
"We captured that Siren yesterday," he murmured against her ear. "But I must confess that I have long since fallen under the spell of a much more elusive siren altogether…"
His fingers moved in and out of her deftly, as if they had all the time in the world. Abbie thought she'd die of the pleasure. She'd never felt this good with her previous lovers from just a couple of fingers.
"And I am lost, my sweet Abbie… utterly and completely lost…"
A few strokes more, and Abbie came, in a public hallway, her body concealed against the wall by Ichabod's much larger one.
"Ichabod, I…"
But she was mesmerized by his fingers, tracing her lips, then pushing gently inside her mouth. Imploring her to taste her own passion.
"With your leave, we shall not return to Sleepy Hollow this night. I wish to spend the next while worshipping at your altar, my Abbie."
"So not only do I get hot sex," she whispered, licking her lips, "I get pretty words, too. Nice."
"In my time, 'making love' referred to more than the act," he explained. "It referred to the entire courtship."
"Well, we've gone from courtship to 100 in like five minutes," Abbie grinned. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you…"
He cut off her words with another kiss.
"I swear that I shall court you in every way known to man and woman," he promised her. "A woman with your charms deserves romance. But first... I fear that I have a pressing need to be inside you, Miss Mills."
Public place be damned. Abbie was nearly ready for him to take her right there in the hallway. She really didn't care who was watching. Hell, maybe we should charge admission.
"Get me out of here, Crane," she implored. "So I can take care of everything you need."
As the revelers counted down around them, and Ichabod led her through the crowd to their waiting love nest, Abbie knew she was ready for primetime.
~the end~
A/N: There's just one thing I want to know: who was rocking Katrina's world back there? If you want to hazard a guess, let me know in the reviews… all I know and care about is that Abbie's world is about to get rocked!
~Dr. Holland