Apparently, the honeymoon's over, Abbie thought as she shook her head in amazement, dropping her luggage by the door with a thump.

The house was a mess.

Crane's muddy boots were haphazardly tossed a few feet from the door. His damp, musty coat was messily draped on the back of the couch. There were mud tracks all over the hardwood floors from the front door to the kitchen. Grease-stained takeout brown bags were mindlessly discarded on the living room floor and kitchen countertops. And to top it off, there he was sitting crossed-legged on the couch, her laptop resting on a pillow in his lap, empty bags of potato chips and bottles of various type of soda surrounded him.

Of course, he didn't know she had just arrived as he was sitting with his back towards the door and his ears were covered by a massive set of blaring headphones as his hands frantically flew over the keyboard, engrossed in playing an online game. A Pop-Tart hung out his mouth as his body jerkily twitched along with the movement of his hands.

Abbie stood frozen in shock, her mouth hanging open. She was only gone for a few days and he had somehow reverted back, or rather forward, to a modern-day teenager. She had left for a conference in D.C. and had come home a day early hoping to get a head start on some paperwork. It looked like that plan just flew out the window. Speaking of windows, what the hell are those smears on the front windows? wondered Abbie, grimacing in disgust. She picked up a forgotten Styrofoam container by the door. She had so many questions but the real question was how did he manage to pay for all that take-out food with the fifty bucks she'd left him? She shook her head in disbelief.

It looked like she may have went into this whole roommate situation a bit precipitously. They had been living together for a few weeks now and it had started out okay enough. Once she had gotten over her initial anger of him up and leaving without a word and then coming back into their lives as if nothing had happened, she was left with the reality of Crane not having anywhere to go. Regardless of his thoughtlessness and selfishness, he was broke, unemployed, and homeless. Sure, she could've told him to figure it out himself but, in the end, she was all he had.

She would have moved him back into the cabin but Joey Corbin had returned and used it occasionally. Since it was technically Corbin's cabin, Crane had only two options: he could live with Jenny or live with Abbie. Since Jenny was in the process of establishing some sort of security, her living situation was a bit unreliable. Besides, Jenny had never been into the whole sharing, domestic situation. She liked being able to move around and not feel tied down. Abbie, on the other hand, had a house with a spare bedroom.

It took some convincing but Crane decided to "reside in her dwelling for a brief duration". She knew it made him uncomfortable to put her in a position where her "character" could be questioned. She told him that it was an outdated way of thinking. Her "character" would be fine. Men and women lived together all the time. It didn't mean they were together-together. Besides, it wasn't anybody's business if they were or weren't together. He seemed unconvinced but was grateful for her charity and agreed to the living situation nonetheless.

After her Marty McFly experience, Abbie had an intimate understanding of feeling alone and out place in an alarmingly different world. If it would have come to her being stuck in that time, Crane would have done what was in his power to look after her. It was only right for her to do the same. Opening up her home to him was only logical, even though it presented the challenge of living together platonically, mainly on her part. Regardless of everything he'd put her through, she still felt a strong connection to him. It wasn't love but it was significant enough for her to recognize as something enduring. The good thing was that after being rejected and abandoned by him, she was certain her feelings were of the unrequited variety. He certainly wasn't pining after her.

When he left without so much as a a thank you, ma'am, she was heartbroken. She felt hurt. Then her insecurities took over and she felt worthless and unwanted; feelings that she had not experienced since she was a kid. Then he never called or wrote. Suprisingly, this mere fact immediately cured her of her self-doubts. She was furious. How could he leave and decide to never talk to her again? After everything they had gone through? After all those sacrifices? Ungrateful bastard.

She didn't know if he was dead or alive for nine months. She would have gone crazy were it not for her disciplined time in training at Quantico. It was where she had met someone with whom she worked off a lot of her frustrations. That, paired with some intense visits with a shrink, her time at the FBI Academy turned out to be the cathartic experience she needed to reset and continue her life. She felt empowered. She firmly believed that if Crane ever returned, she would not lower herself to a vindictive level. She would show mercy. She would be the better person.

Achieving her dream career was the last push she needed to restore her faith and respect for herself. Ichabod Crane's love or lack of love did not define her. She was Grace Abigail Mills, Special Agent and Witness with a capital w. She was an important person. She was needed. She was essential to the future of this world.

Living with Crane would not confuse her purpose. In fact, his disinterest in her would keep things uncomplicated and platonic. Meanwhile, she could be as generous as she'd like without having to reveal her personal motives for helping him. But, at this very moment, seeing him in this repulsive state, her charitable side was having none of it.

Yes, living together was helping to repair their bond. Balancing work and their mission was easier having him conveniently there when she needed him. And, of course, it was nice having someone there at the end of the day to talk openly with about work and the monsters. Nevertheless, there were expectations that needed to be met. One of those was keeping the house livable, not reminiscent of the home of a junk food hoarder. Although imagining Crane on an episode of Hoarders adamantly defending his rights as a former captain of the Revolutionary War to stockpile empty take-out containers would be some top quality entertainment.

She rubbed the bottom of her front teeth with her tongue trying to work past her irritation. She wanted to yell and growl and yank Crane off the couch by his ears. How dare he turn her nice and tidy home into a teenage pigsty? Suddenly, Crane shouted out something resembling excited swearing as PopTart pieces sprayed all over her computer screen and his fingers pounded into the keyboard wildly. Abbie looked at him in disbelief.

That. Was. It.

Abbie was tired, hungry, and stressed out. Former Captain Ichabod Crane, Esquire of General George Washington's spy ring was not going to save himself from her fury this time.

"Crane!"

He didn't hear her as he continued shouting insults at the computer screen, "Take that, you babbling bastardly gullion! Thou hast been baptized by the hand of your capable master!"

"Crane!" snapped Abbie, wrenching the headphones from his head.

Ichabod sprang from the couch startled, frantically trying to keep the laptop from falling from his grip, pastry pieces and pillows flying every which way. He genuinely looked terrified. Abbie fought back a brief smirk and schooled her features to reflect her ire. She sucked in her cheeks and folded her arms.

"What the hell's all this?"

"Lieutenant! You…you returned early from your journey. I thought you were to return tomorrow evening," he replied unsurely, setting the computer and headphones down on the couch and tucking his hair behind his very red ears.

"The conference ended early. And don't change the subject. What the hell, Crane? I was gone for a five days…"

"Ah, yes. Eh, um, I have been…um, I've neglected my housekeeping duties. If you'll permit me to…," he mumbled uneasily as he crumbled up the empty bags of chips and scooped up the empty bottles form the couch.

"Seriously?"

He looked pathetic, blushing and twitching in front of her with his arms full of garbage, dressed in his yoga pants and a stained t-shirt. His hair was greasy and unkempt more than usual. He had pieces of Pop-Tart and God knows what else stuck in his beard. He smelled like he hadn't showered since she'd left.

At that very moment, it dawned on her that their living arrangements could help her in the "keeping it platonic" department; she was not in the slightest turned on by the mess that stood before her. The only thing she wanted to do with him was throw him into the shower and douse him in an industrial sized bottle of shampoo, clothes and all. Taking on the role of scolding parent was really putting a damper on her libido. Not to mention his rank odor was less than arousing. Yeah, no way in hell would she want any type of physical contact with him in his current state. She held her breath and took a step away from him. She resisted from pinching her nose and instead tilted her head to the side impatiently waiting for his explanation.

Crane gingerly placed the trash down on the couch, eyeing her anxiously. His hand flexed nervously as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. He opened his mouth and held up a finger, ready to provide the explanation that would redeem him from the trouble he was in. Abbie quirked her eyebrow. His mouth closed and his finger lowered immediately.

He looked lost as he deliberated what he was going to say to her. She resisted a smirk. This was just too much fun. She enjoyed watching him squirm. She swallowed down an evil cackle. She didn't mean to torture him but it really was too easy. He loved being right all the time so the few times that he was caught off guard, she thoroughly relished it. Finally, he closed his eyes in shame.

"My sincerest apologies, Lieutenant. Please forgive me for disrespecting your home and for abusing the trust you placed in me," he apologized wholeheartedly, hanging his head in remorse.

Abbie looked at him dispassionately. He really knew how to suck the fun out of teasing. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Frankly, she was too tired to deal with it. She looked up at him. He was so ashamed, he couldn't even look at her in the eyes. She smirked at him and sighed. God, he was cute, smelly, yes, but adorable nonetheless. She couldn't stay mad. Hell, she had her moments of pure, unadulterated laziness. He had yet to bear witness to those moments. Dealing with evil shit on a daily basis really took a lot out of a person. They were only human after all.

She was going to lecture him and help him clean up, but after his kicked puppy routine, she decided to skip the lecture. Between the two of them, they'd get things cleaned in no time. Although if she helped, he'd have to immediately take a bath and he'd owe her a home cooked dinner. A fair quid pro quo. Satisfied with the terms of her deal, she was about to offer her plan when he hastily reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of jellybeans.

"Jelly Belly?" he offered meekly, with a hopeful grin.

Abbie's smile fell. She looked at his outstretched hand and then at him. With a flat tone, she asked, "Where did you get those?"

"Oh, I discovered them in a plastic Ziploc sandwich bag in the back of the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard."

"Hmm," she responded impassively.

Crane continued excitedly describing the new treat he had discovered. "They are quite delicious. Each one has a different flavor. I particularly enjoy the green ones. Oh, and the ones that taste like fizzy soda, of course."

Abbie stared him down. His smile faltered. She just couldn't believe it. After taking all those efforts to hide them from him. All for nothing.

"You ate my jellybean stash?"

"Yes?" he replied questioningly.

She nodded overenthusiastically with her lips pursed. She gave him a tight smile. She breathed in sharply before lowering her voice and saying, "I can forgive a lot of things, Crane, but violating my jellybean stash is not one of them. You can clean this all up by yourself. I'm going to bed."

"Lieuten…?" he asked bewildered, as she picked up her suitcase from the foyer.

"Nope. Not talking to you right now," snapped Abbie, as she heaved her luggage to her room.

Crane followed her worriedly, trying to help her with her suitcase. She turned around and smacked his hands away from it. He pulled his hands away protectively to his body as she glared at him.

Abbie was a generous person. She had spent the past year working on herself and making great gains professionally and personally. Nevertheless, she had her moments of pettiness. They were extremely rare moments but they did exist. This happened to be one of them. Nobody messed with her jellybean stash. Not even her fellow, divinely ordained Witness. Her jellybeans were off limits. No amount of adorableness could excuse such a violation.

Crane continued following her. "What did I…?" he asked, as Abbie paused in front of her bedroom door.

She threw her luggage into the room and turned to him. She silently widened her eyes and held her pointer finger in his face, much like he did to interrupt or make a point. He looked at her small finger disconcertedly before looking at her eyes pleadingly. She took a step back into her room and slammed her bedroom door in his confused face.

Ichabod looked nervously down the hall at the Lieutenant's bedroom closed door. After she had stormed to her room, he had tried reasoning with her through the closed door. He had knocked and attempted to apologize but she had only responded with a fierce demand to leave her alone. He respected her request and decided to clean house. He discarded the empty containers of food and used cleaning wipes to "disinfect" the surfaces of the countertops and tables. He assumed "disinfected" surfaces meant clean surfaces. He then bathed and changed his clothes. He was currently awaiting a load of laundry to finish its cycles. He hoped it met her standards of cleanliness.

He felt ashamed. He wasn't sure exactly what had upset her but he understood it was a result of his slovenliness and appalling behavior. She had placed her trust in him and he had failed her. He had demonstrated a lack of work ethic and common decency. This was not the impression he wanted her to have of him in their renewed partnership. He was deeply humiliated by his actions. Since returning to Sleepy Hollow, Abbie had been nothing but generous to him.

He had assumed that she would have refused to see him when he had requested her presence at the federal detention center but she had graciously accepted. He felt an overwhelming amount of shame for what he had done to her before his abrupt departure. It was even more shameful for him to admit that he had shut her out of his life for months. He had acted cowardly. It was inexcusable.

Yet, when he first set his gaze upon her after depriving himself of her presence for nine months, he felt reborn. He detected the subtle and not so subtle changes in his lieutenant. She appeared more confident, refined, and serene. Her shorter hairstyle and formal business attire helped to firmly establish her assuredness. She had become an FBI agent during his absence. She was accomplished and content. She was more magnificent than ever.

He had believed that leaving and placing physical distance between them would provide clarity and diminish his uncertain feelings for her. However, after taking enough time to fully grieve Katrina and Henry, he was faced with solitude. For months, he became accustomed to his seclusion. It was then that destiny intervened and led him to her once more. She once again saved him from a life of perpetual wandering, evermore alone. To be precise, he discovered a tablet that foretold of their tale in his crypt. Attached to the tablet was an illustration, a near identical sketch of them. Their fates were once again entwined.

Upon hearing this declaration, she had laughed at him. It was not the response he had anticipated. However, after teaming up to defeat the newest threat to Sleepy Hollow, he was convinced that she could entertain the possibility of their decided fates. His hope grew when she offered to share her humble abode with him.

They could deepen their bond and he could bask in her radiance day and night. It was as if divine intervention had opened the path directly to her heart once more. He need only not "screw it up" this time around.

Though, she had provided an opportunity for him to earn her esteem once more, he had not yet revealed the entire tablet translation to her. In addition to its brief description of the legend of Sleepy Hollow, it had decreed that the two witnesses were of one soul and were preordained to eternal devotion to one another. Their fates had been decided: they were meant to be, purposely designed by their creator for one another. It filled him with a sense of purpose. However, it would most likely frighten her off if he shared this additional information with her. He did not want her to feel obligated to remain at his side out of duty rather than love.

Every day since he had returned, he lived in regret for having refused her affection when she had so openly offered it to him. Had he no honor, he would have used the Grand Grimoire to selfishly turn back time to relive that squandered moment. He would have held her close and delighted in the warmth of her embrace. He would have etched every inch of her glorious body to memory and worshipped her delicate curves with his lips. He would have caressed the most pleasurable moans from her delectable throat and devoted his attention to savoring her sweet and salty taste. He would have made her body quiver in bliss and would have held her tightly as she delighted in his fervid desire.

However, he could not return to his moment of carelessness. Instead, he would seize any opportunity to share her company. He would dedicate himself to restoring her trust in him. She had once placed her heart in his hands and he had callously slighted her. It was the reason behind her presently austerely friendly disposition toward him. She had not demonstrated a single hint of desire toward him. It appeared that she had overcome her feelings for him and God did he ever hate himself for it. His moment of indiscretion would be reconciled.

Perhaps one day he would earn her affections once more. If he were to be blessed with such a day, he vowed to never spurn such a precious gift. She would be his and he would be hers until the end of their days.

Nevertheless, his motivation had not been enough to avoid disillusioning her once more. He had yielded to his need to "unwind" one night that continued on for five days without a moment of respite. He had discovered that video games and sugary foods were addicting. He also discovered that the extent of Abbie's forgiveness did not include jellybean thievery. How could he have comported himself in such a juvenile manner? What woman would surrender her heart to such a negligent fool? He dreaded to think what opinion she must have of him.

Suddenly, Abbie's door creaked open. He stood at attention at the end of the hall, lit by the moonlight streaming through her bedroom window. She stood at its softly illuminated threshold, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Remaining stoic was a challenge as he gazed upon her nightwear.

She wore a silk kerchief over her hair and a gray cotton chemise and short trousers. The clothing she wore did very little to cover her body. The chemise had thin straps and was short in length enough to reveal her lower abdomen. Her "shorts", as she called them, hung low on her hips and covered just the tops of her glorious thighs. He admired the soft curves of her bare arms, her exposed middle, and her smooth legs. Her face appeared even more youthful without the cover of powder. She was simply beautiful. His lips parted and breathing became difficult. She had no idea how exquisite she appeared gleaming in the moonlight, her bedroom beckoning him to her.

"Crane?"

He swallowed nervously, attempting to rasp out a response. He could not manage to form coherent words. He knit his brow uneasily. "Mmm?" he rumbled instead, his voice suddenly too deep to use.

"What are you doing? It's…," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, squinting at what he could only assume was her alarm clock, "It's 3 in the morning."

He flexed his hands nervously at his sides and turned his body toward the shadows. He closed his eyes and stammered, "I..."

She interrupted him questioningly, "Are you washing clothes?"

His mouth hung open in the middle of an attempt to form an intelligible word. He took in a sharp breath. He nodded his head and replied breathlessly, "Yes."

"Oh, Crane, just leave it till tomorrow," she sighed sleepily.

Crane remained mute. A solitary sigh from her had the power to discompose him completely. He focused all his attention on maintaining his body shrouded by the darkness and restraining himself from taking a step toward her heavenly silhouette.

"Crane?" she asked, concern laced in her tone when he didn't respond.

He quickly shook himself from his stupor. He replied solemnly, "Yes, of course."

She hesitantly looked at him, waiting for him to protest. When he remained silent, she sighed again. "Alright. Go to sleep," she breathed.

"Hmm," he rumbled tensely.

Turning to close her bedroom door, she appeared to change her mind and turned toward him again huffing softly. She shifted her weight to one leg and hung her head. She toyed with the bottom hem of her shorts. "Listen, sorry about tonight. I didn't mean to get mad. I was just tired, exhausted…"

He raised his brows in surprise. If there was anybody who needed to excuse their behavior, it was him. However, he would not rebuff her attempt at making amends. He replied graciously with a nod of his head, "Of course."

She gave him a small smile before adding, "You can have some of my jellybeans anytime you want. Just ask next time."

He grinned and nodded politely, devotedly holding her gaze. "Thank you."

She shook her head teasingly and rolled her eyes. "Alright. I'm going back to bed. You should, too," she advised.

Not an invitation, Ichabod. Not an invitation, he repeated to himself. "Hmm," he managed to choke out.

"G'night, Crane," she said softly, slowly closing her bedroom door.

"Sleep well, Lieutenant."

The instant her door closed, he squeezed his eyes shut and closed his hands into fists. He tensely returned to the couch. He gingerly sat down before stretching out, one leg resting on the couch the other on the floor. He would not sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her heavenly form.

As he contemplated the ceiling for a few aching moments, he deliberated the chances of waking up Abbie if he showered again. This time with ice cold water.

A few minutes later...

Abbie awoke to the sound of the shower going. She rolled her eyes and adjusted her pillow under her head. Leave to Crane to indulge in a shower in the middle of the night. The man has lost his mind, she thought dismissively before falling asleep again, her dreams filled with shameless thoughts of shared steamy showers.

Greetings! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Once I started writing, it was hard to stop adding details here and there. Ichabod and Abbie as roommates is an irresistible treasure-trove of writing jewels. I know right now it seems like this story has no plot but I'm just taking my time getting to there. With the show back on, it's kind of hard not to include some of those Ichabbie-centric details they've thrown at us.

Anyway, I had fun with this chapter and I hope this is still considered within the T-rated range. If not, let me know and I'll change the rating. I didn't intend to take this story into the land of smut but if the details or language are pushing it, let me know.

Also, I just wanted to say that I am so enthused to see Sleepy Hollow back on. I loved Thursday's episode, "I, Witness". I can't wait to see the next episode. Joey Corbin and Daniel Reynolds will be interesting additions.

Anyway, leave a comment if you'd like. What did you think of this chapter? What do you think about Sleepy Hollow this season? Thank you to everyone who has commented on, read, favorited, and followed this story. You keep me going strong!

Your humble fanfic writer,

semul