Later the same night...

Abbie touched the screen of her phone and brought a low light up as she stepped into the cabin's bedroom. A sigh came from Ichabod where he lay on the bed, one arm folded under his head, and his blue eyes inched opened unwillingly. "My name is Ichabod Bennet Crane, it's obscenely early on a Friday morning in the year 2013, which I might add is several dozen decades past my birth year, and I've no sign whatsoever of concussion." He recited huffily, his tone making Abbie smile. "Alright, you're okay. Go back to sleep." The phone went black, casting the room into the same lack of light. Abbie had turned for the door when Ichabod's voice came out of the darkness.

"Miss Mills?"

"Hmm?"

"I am grateful."

"Ha, me too, Crane. Hauling your grumpy ass to the hospital is not high on my to-do list, I can tell you. So it's no problem, really."

"I can assure you that my posterior is no more or less irritable than any other portion of my anatomy."

He would take that literally, Abbie thought, glad of the darkness to hide her smirk. The thought of Ichabod's rear end was a little too much for this early in the morning, and Abbie hastily pushed those thoughts aside.

"Never mind. But in all seriousness Crane, you have to tell me when stuff like this happens." Without really thinking about it, Abbie found herself moving back to sit on the edge of his bed, hearing the nervous shift of his body weight as she did so, moving into a sitting position. She reached out to brush his arm, her fingers lingering on his skin mere seconds, reassuring him. "We're partners, remember."

Yes, he remembered, Ichabod thought, swallowing nervously. No surprise for him, since he remembered everything, but just the same he had an all new level of recall where Abbie Mills was concerned. He remembered the first time she'd used that word in relation to him with perfect clarity. it had been at the car-yard, when they'd searched for the Mohawk Shaman during the Ro'kenhronteys battle. Abbie had introduced him as her partner.

A tiny part of his heart, perhaps the part not caught up in mourning for or yearning after Katrina, had leaped at being her partner. Perhaps because the notion was so unexpected in accordance with his own 18th century values, but he had swiftly learned to overcome any discomfort in letting her guide him through in this new era.

You only long to belong to Miss Mills because you've nowhere or no one else to belong to in this time, Ichabod told himself.

"So you need to be honest with me. Please." Abbie finished. It was impossible not to agree. This gentle, concerned side of Abbie that Ichabod knew few others saw was much more difficult to refuse than Determined Abbie. It was impossible not to acknowledge that she made her request out of genuine concern for him. Difficult not to respond in kind.

His imagination, more vivid than it was in the daylight, ran away with him. Would she pull away he if settled an arm around her? What would her body feel like lined up with his, her head on his shoulder? He breath on his cheek?

Get a hold of yourself, man. "I do apologize, Miss Mills." In his head, he called her Abbie instead of the more formal title he usually employed, and in his head it sounded all the more intimate for the darkness. "It was not my intention to cause you undue worry."

Her hand found his - how did she do that in the dark? - and squeezed it gently. "I know you didn't. Remember, you're not on your own anymore, Crane. You can trust me."

It isn't you whom I do not trust. "I can only plead that my esteem in my own judgement is somewhat lacking in the wake of previous events."

"Mm, I can imagine. It's strange even for me to think about, all this time fighting the Horseman only for him to turn out to be an actual person that you knew... I can't say I can put myself in your shoes, Crane. But, I do know what it's like to live with regret, and blame. My only advice is not to hold onto it for as long as I did. And... don't go through it on your own like I tried to."

For a long while they didn't speak, though the silence was comfortable, if tinged with sadness. They both had things they would have done differently, now.

"Next time, I will endeavor to communicate more effectively." Abbie almost laughed at that one. Ichabod Crane being any more effectively communicative than he already was... that would be a feat and a half.

"Next time, I'm not leaving you alone to be lured into reach of our mortal enemies." She snorted. "When are you going to learn to listen to me, anyway Crane? I told you back there not to loose your cool."

"What makes you imagine that I did?"

"Getting into swordfights with headless horsemen counts as losing your cool." Abbie pointed out.

"Hmm. A pity there were no crossbows close at hand. Maybe we shall have to rectify that next time." Abbie groaned at that. "No crossbows!"

His soft chuckle was soothing to her ears. He shifted slightly, and Abbie felt his leg brush her thigh. She stood up a little abruptly.

"I'll let you get back to sleep." It was sinking in how long she'd spent sitting on the edge of his bed. She'd probably been making him uncomfortable. He's married, remember. And his wife could be making a comeback sometime soon. Not anything that she wanted to think about, here in the night with the one person she had come to rely on so swiftly, and so totally.

The thought of loosing him now to his wife was a selfishly horrible thought.

He cleared his throat, taking a moment too long to speak. Yep, he's uncomfortable.

"I appreciate your checking in on me." Maybe it was the fact she couldn't see his annoyingly handsome face, but his voice sounded softer than usual.

"No problem." Her footsteps retreated from the room. Ichabod stayed sitting up in bed for a long moment, then dropped his head onto his arms.

He didn't feel in the least sleepy anymore.

A/N - You guys win! Got such a great response in just one day that I couldn't help but continue this, and who could resist a little late-night bedroom chat?
For those new to my writing, if you want to read more, there is no motivation better than simply letting me know with a review :) Every review now matter how long or short is deeply appreciated and the best fuel to the fire for me to write on.
Couldn't resist giving Ichabod a middle name- we know Abbie's, and I'll be highly interested if we do hear Ichabod's in canon.