Disclaimer: Sleepy Hollow belongs to Washington Irving and FOX
Chapter 2 - Abbie's POV
Ichabod Crane's a tall, glass of water, and while Abbie's not parched, she certainly wouldn't mind taking a long drink.
But, he's also very British, very annoying, and, oh, did she also mention very married?
So, yeah, Abbie Mills isn't getting on that ride any time soon. Which is fine. The view's just as pretty.
Besides, if she's going to have to hold back the Apocalypse, at least the Higher Powers gave her something nice to look at to contrast all the ugly, demonic evils that she finds herself surrounded by and fighting against.
And Crane makes a good partner, though it's taken her a while to admit it. Once she gets past his old-fashioned sensibilities – which are oh-so fun to tease him about – Abbie finds she can rely on him, which is rare for her. Sure, he insists on opening doors for her, and pulling out her chair, and holding back obstacles so they don't disturb her until Abbie wants to sit Ichabod down and give him a lesson on women's lib. But, he's smart and resourceful and loyal to a fucking fault. So, it balances.
And, though Abbie may not like admitting it, a small part of her likes the small courtesies Ichabod extends to her. It's kinda nice having a man around who respects her, but still treats her like a lady. She didn't realize how much she liked it until Ichabod showed up and now, all she can do is compare him to every other man that crosses her path.
Ichabod Crane: ruining other men for ladies everywhere since the 18th century.
Time goes on, their struggles continue, and Ichabod's quirks have become less annoying and more endearing. Abbie begins to feel her heart race when he holds out a hand to help her out of her seat, or when he stares at her with that intent gaze of his. She knows herself well enough to know that she's falling for her partner – her married partner – and she also knows that he can never find out. The most harmless of things get Ichabod all kinds of flustered, it seems, and Abbie just knows the awkwardness that'll sit between them like a demonic elephant will get him stammering and shifty-eyed and then the Apocalypse will come because working together will become too uncomfortable and no thank you, not while Abbie's in charge. She's no stranger to burying things so deep where no one can ever find them, not even Crane with his uncanny way of seeing straight down into her soul.
And so she does. She pretends not to notice the way he smiles at her when she makes a joke he finds clever, all sparkling eyes and soft lips. Or the way he fills out the new clothes she got him, the ones that make him look like a hipster professor with an ass she could bounce a quarter off of. Or the way he holds things, with long delicate fingers that she only thinks about late at night when she's in the safety of her bed (she thinks about them touching her, caressing her, inside of her, his beard tickling her shoulder as he sucks on her collarbone, and, god, it gets her off faster than anything ever has).
She pretends to remember that he's married and hates herself a little for forgetting it. She'd never want to be the Other Woman, especially not when she's met his wife a couple of times in that weird dream-world-between-world place and actually kinda likes her. Katrina is beautiful and proper, for all that she's an actual witch, and Abbie can see why Ichabod fell for her. The regret that goes with the thought helps temper the feelings for Ichabod that grow by the day and gives Abbie something to clamp onto, to steady her hand and keep her in check. It surprises her how often she finds herself reaching for him before she can remember to stop, how his given name always burns on her tongue when she addresses him by his last name, and how the thought of losing him, sends her heart racing and a cold sweat trickling down her spine.
But, gradually, it becomes her new reality, and hiding her feelings from Ichabod while working alongside him is just the kind of high-wire act she excels at. And it doesn't hurt that she cares about him as a friend to help her with that fine balancing act.
So, when she begins to notice his behavior turn for the weird, it's the friend side of her that reacts first. Ichabod begins getting flustered at nothing it seems. Abbie's started looking over her shoulder to see if some skank's walking past showing miles of leg or something. Then he starts turning clumsy, fumbling with things that he once handled with grace.
"You alright?" she asks one day in late March, 7 months since they started working together to save the world. "You've been kinda twitchy lately." They're in the car, so he can't excuse himself if the question makes him too uncomfortable.
Abbie looks at him out of the corner of her eye as she drives him home at the end of the day. Ichabod shifts in his seat and she smiles. She knows the sign of Ichabod's ruffled feathers. He crosses his arms over his chest before he speaks. "I have not been 'kinda twitchy'." The way he pauses before repeating her words with an emphasis that speaks of how much he disagrees with her word choice makes Abbie smile even wider.
"If you say so," Abbie says. "But you can't hide from me, Crane. Something's up with you."
That earns Abbie another squirm and she lets out a small laugh. "Does my bearing amuse you, Miss Mills?" Ichabod asks as he looks over at her. His tone is arch, but there's a hint of something shy behind it.
Abbie immediately feels like a heel. "Sorry," she says and means it. "I am worried about you, though."
"I beg you to not," Ichabod says. "It has simply been a long day and I am in need of rest."
It's been a long week, is more like it, Abbie thinks. There was a wendigo, of all fucking things, that they only killed off earlier this morning, just in time to show up for Abbie's shift at the station. The two of them are running on fumes and caffeine. So Abbie lets him off the hook for the moment, but she's not going to let this go.
"Something's up with him," she confesses to Jenny a week later. Jenny's in town, hanging around for a few weeks to see if anything dire comes up before she goes off again to try and find more allies for their fight against Moloch.
The two sisters are at a Red Robin – because who doesn't love bottomless fries – and Jenny pauses with her burger halfway to her mouth. "You're kidding, right?"
Abbie gives her little sister a look. "Does it look like I'm kidding? I'm being serious, here. Something's got Crane all antsy and I'm starting to worry about him."
Jenny returns Abbie's look with a flat stare. "Abbie, he has the hots for you."
That has Abbie's eyebrows shooting for her hairline. "Excuse me?"
Jenny scoffs. "You heard me. He has the hots for you and he feels guilty because you guys are still trying to get his wife out of wherever she is." She takes her bite of her burger and smiles around the mouthful.
Abbie opens and closes her mouth a couple of times before she finds words to respond. "He does not. He doesn't. Does he?" She looks away to dip a fry in ranch dressing before popping it into her mouth.
Jenny smiles. "Oh my god, you have the hots for him, too!"
Having it said like that brings a hot flush to Abbie's cheeks. "Hey, keep it down, will ya?" she hisses and looks around like she expects Ichabod to be standing behind her. It'd be her luck, really.
"I don't envy you," Jenny says, unhushed, like Abbie isn't panicking in front of her. "I mean, he's married, so that sucks. But Abbie, the way he looks at you? Any woman would be so lucky."
When they get back to her place, Jenny bids Abbie good night before slipping into the guest room, leaving Abbie alone out in the living room, feeling cast adrift with what Jenny told her.
It's not true, Abbie tells herself as she gets ready for bed. "It can't be," she whispers. Ichabod's in love with his wife, she knows this. She can't think anything differently. To think otherwise is filled with a hope Abbie doesn't dare let herself feel.