Abbie sighed, swiveling left to right in her office chair. How long had she been sitting there? An hour? Two hours? Hell, for all she knew it had been less than fifteen minutes since she left Daniel Reynold's office, and she still had no idea what to do. She hired Crane impulsively, but she was serious about needing him around. He was essential to solving her cases and she wanted him by her side – never mind that he was her fellow Witness, the man with whom she shared an unbreakable bond. Daniel, on the other hand, was there to pick up the pieces after Crane left. He was the one who pushed her to achieve her long-desired dream. He gave her everything she needed, as well as a few things she didn't realize were missing. She felt torn. She wanted Crane. She wanted Danny.

Sighing tiredly, she pushed back from her desk and stood up. One thing was certain: she needed to get home and rest before she did something stupid, such as kissing her boss. Yeah, Abbie, good idea.

She said goodbye to the few people left in the office, climbed into her car and drove home. Along the way she warbled to the sounds of Toni Braxton un-breaking her heart and crooned with Whitney Houston about believing in miracles. Belting out some of her favorite songs was surprisingly cathartic, and for once in her life, Abbie was thankful for the never-ending parade of stoplights. It gave her time to consider all the pros and cons of taking on a relationship right now. Was there really room in her life for something other than working for the bureau or saving the world from the next apocalypse?

By the time she pulled up outside her house, she felt hopeful about the decision she was leaning toward. Sliding out of the car, she wearily walked toward the cozy front porch. The windows glowed softly from the light within; Crane was home.

Not that she expected otherwise. Crane proudly informed her that he was going to study for his citizenship exam before leaving the Westchester field office. She smiled. He was really making an effort to stand on his own two feet. She appreciated his drive and enthusiasm, but she wasn't looking forward to the day he decided to move on. Even so, she didn't want him to feel obligated to stay with her, a fact that made her want to jump back into her car and drive away – anything to avoid the conversation they needed to have about her final decision.

Abbie heaved a sigh – she could delay that conversation a little bit longer. In the meantime, she took a moment to admire her house. She adored its grandeur, as well as the small yard, pleasant neighborhood, and charming porch swing. It was exactly what she dreamed of as a kid – a world away from foster homes and the "boat window" in her old bedroom. I should appreciate this more, she thought. Nodding to herself, she sat down on the porch steps, breathing in the crisp evening air. She slid out of her boots and stretched her legs.

She meditated on her decision to start an intimate relationship with the man she was falling for – had been falling for from the beginning. It was time. She didn't feel confident or prepared, but if she waited until she felt ready, she'd surely lose her opportunity with him. She took a few deep breaths, enjoying the clear, calm night. She hoped she was making the right choice.

She leaned her head back and she stretched her neck. She craved a long, hot shower. Closing her eyes, she moaned at the thought of putting on her fuzzy flannel pajamas and curling up in bed. After a few moments, she realized it was getting harder to keep her eyelids open. She picked up her boots and soundlessly opened the door.

She walked in, quietly shutting the door behind her and setting her boots down. Soft music played in the background. Abbie furrowed her brow. Strange. That wasn't Crane's typical go-to study music. She took off her coat and started to hang it on the coat rack when she noticed a sweater that didn't belong to her or Crane – unless he recently turned into a small woman with an affinity for girly sweaters. At the rate they were going, she wasn't going to discard it as a possibility.

She carefully padded down the hardwood floors in the short hallway. Moving through the house, she heard hushed voices coming from the dining room. A thought suddenly occurred to her: if Crane was studying, he was with the tutor he told her about earlier, the one she caught him texting to several times. Her name was something old-timey sounding, like Caroline or Coralline. Or was it Corinth? What is his deal with women whose names start with C or K, she wondered.

Sure, she felt a stab of jealousy whenever she saw him typing or smiling at his phone, but what was she going to do? Take his phone away like a possessive parent? Tell him to stop texting her like a jealous girlfriend? She had been the one encouraging him to get out there and find his place in this world. She couldn't stop him just because she felt insecure. She had no right to tell him anything, but hopefully that would change after their conversation tonight. It would be one of her conditions.

Looking back on it, she didn't know what inspired her to approach the dining room so silently. She should have made a racket like she normally did, or sat outside and enjoyed the cool night air for a few more minutes. Why did she have to come in the house at that precise moment? It must have been divine intervention or fate, or whatever the hell people said to appease their feelings of guilt, anger and sadness. For her it was all three. Thanks to destiny, or whatever the hell you called it, Abbie was treated to the sight of Miss Corinth, Crane's supposed tutor, leaning across a stack of books – practically in his lap – and kissing him.

Abbie froze. Her heart sputtered. She tried to breathe but realized it was futile; her lungs were in shock. Her stomach dropped. She broke out in a cold sweat. Basically, she experienced all the cliché terms people use to describe feelings of utter shock and horror. Those feelings only intensified when Crane continued the kiss, hesitantly reaching up to caress his supposed tutor's cheek. Abbie felt a sharp sting in her eyes.

She shut her eyes and turned to walk back to the front door, controlling her need to vomit. She took deep breaths. How could she have been so naïve? What in the world allowed her to think something like this wouldn't happen eventually? She swallowed back the lump in her throat and took a few steadying breaths. She paused and stared at the mocking door in front of her. Hastily, she turned the knob, opening the door and slamming it shut before she had a chance to second-guess her actions. She cleared her throat and croaked out, "Hey, I'm home."

Resigned to the situation, Abbie closed her eyes and hung her head. There was no way to avoid confronting her worst nightmare now. Nice going, Abbie,she admonished herself.

Turning from the door, she stared at the never-ending hallway that led to the dining room. She continued to take deep breaths and nod self-assuredly. She could do this. It wasn't the end of the world. Nobody was dying. Nobody was hurt. No one, except you, the little voice in her head jeered. She gritted her teeth. She had gone through so much worse in her life. This was nothing. This was insignificant. In reality, Crane was nothing more than her friend, her roommate. That much hadn't changed.

Impressed with her ability to remain calm and keep her voice from cracking, she jingled her keys convincingly and kicked the boots she left lying on the floor. She took a moment to collect herself before pasting on a friendly grin. She could do this. It wasn't his fault he couldn't read her mind. She may have made her decision to be with him, but he had no idea. He was completely free to do as he wanted. She had no claim on him. She made her decision too late and now she had to deal with the consequences. It was fine. She was fine. Everything is fine, she continued to repeat to herself, working her way down the hallway. She stopped a few steps away from the dining room entrance and took one last breath.

There were moments in Abbie's life in which she impressed herself with her acting abilities, this was about to be one of them.

Upon returning from the lieutenant's office, bereft of any leads that might indicate Pandora's origin, Crane resolved to prepare for his citizenship exam. It would provide enough distraction to keep him from thinking about the moment he and the lieutenant shared in her office.

It had been yet another wasted opportunity. He nearly snatched the offensive phone that interrupted them and threw it against the wall; however, he knew that would have undoubtedly angered her. Therefore, he restrained himself, walked home in the crisp afternoon air, and texted his tutor, Miss Corinth, to inform her of his exam preparations. He didn't know what inspired him to communicate with her, but the conversation led to offers of aid from his enthusiastic tutor.

In all honesty, he needed guidance wading through the countless, preposterous forms required to attain citizenship in the United States. It was absurd, as he frequently reminded the lieutenant, to petition for citizenship in the very country he helped found. More than that, it was a direct violation of his long-ago, hard-earned rights. John Adams would be appalled to learn citizenship required more than literacy and knowledge to vote. Thankfully, Ms. Corinth was gracious enough to offer her knowledge and connections, free of charge.

It could be said that he was, perhaps, selfishly taking advantage of her friendship to achieve his goals; that he was misleading her and, perchance, there was more truth in that statement than he cared to admit. Nevertheless, he was fond of Miss Corinth's company. She offered him worthy conversation and welcome flattery. Their inconsequential conversations provided him with a sense of triviality. It was simple. It was ordinary.

He could not seek triviality with Abbie. He cared for her more than life itself. They battled the evils of the world together. They shared a living space and meals. They helped each other unwind after their battles – her with her distractingly alluring yoga and him with his noisy video games. They cleaned together – both singing along to their preferred tunes – and shared quiet moments. They became irritated with each other and laughed together. They shared in their difficulties and celebrated their achievements. What he had with Abbie was far from ordinary. Every moment was a marvel.

Conversely, he valued the ordinariness of Miss Corinth. She offered much in terms of friendship, especially with her connections and knowledge in his quest for citizenship – Ichabod sought nothing more thusly. She was attractive and generous, but he was not attracted to her in the same manner he was attracted to his partner. Miss Corinth was nothing more than a means to an end. Nonetheless, it appeared his tutor had arrived that evening with more than friendship in mind.

Upon settling into the dining room and studying for a few hours, her apparent confidence and flirtatiousness began to appear suspect. It was unnerving, but he dismissed her giddy behavior as being overenthusiastic, as was the manner of most young women of this time.

Then again, he should not have been quite so dismissive, for he was taken aback when Miss Corinth leaned over and kissed him unexpectedly. He froze in shock. This was not what he intended. Perhaps he once again 'sent mixed signals' as the lieutenant would say. He could not allow this to continue, but as her thin lips moved over his own, curiosity won over. He thought there might be a modern technique he could – possibly – utilize later with the lieutenant.

Unfortunately, it was more awkward than instructive. It appeared that modern kisses were not as innovative as he assumed. It was a relief, really. It was an insecurity he maintained every time he envisioned kissing Abbie. What if it wasn't pleasant for her due to his lack of modern experience? He could not live with himself knowing he may have disillusioned her with his lack of the romancing skills. As he waited for the kiss to be over, he contemplated this new experience. If Miss Corinth's kisses were considered typical of this time, the kisses he was saving for Abbie would be far from disappointing.

In the midst of waiting, he heard the front door slam shut, announcing the Lieutenant's arrival. His heart nearly stopped. He quite literally hurled Miss Corinth off of him. He wiped his mouth, tucked his hair behind his ears and crossed his arms and legs. Abbie could not see him like this. She would, most assuredly, be disheartened, and all the efforts he had made to gain her trust would have been in vain. Any possibility of a romance between them would be thwarted. He could not allow it to happen.

Miss Corinth looked at him in bewilderment. He simply furrowed his brow. She opened her mouth, perhaps to inquire as to his odd behavior, but he held a finger up. He could not allow her to aggravate the situation they found themselves in. It was not his house, and the only reason Miss Corinth didn't run screaming from him was due to the Lieutenant's positive influence and efforts to adapt him to this world. They were in no position to disregard her need for tranquility in her own home.

After a few agonizing moments, the Lieutenant timidly appeared in the dining room entrance. She had her hands in her back pockets and kept her eyes downcast. She feebly smiled at them, avoiding eye contact whenever possible.

"Hey ya'll," she said softly.

Ichabod stood, his fingers nervously fluttering at his sides. He hoped there was no obvious evidence as to what just occurred, but his stomach dropped after taking a moment to study her reaction. She avoided eye-contact. She was unusually hushed and kept her distance from them. It was a strong indication she was exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Lieutenant, good evening," he said nervously, attempting to catch her gaze.

She glanced up at him before quickly looking at Miss Corinth. She couldn't even bear to look at him but he could sense the hurt in her eyes. His heart ached. Dear Lord, what had he done? He had betrayed her and she knew. Of course she knew. How could she not know?

"Sorry to interrupt…," she said, smiling gently at Miss Corinth.

He shook his head adamantly, taking a step toward her. "No, of course not Lieutenant. Your presence is, as always, most welcome. In fact, it is near necessary. You are the essence of this home. Without you, this household would surely…," he elaborated, hoping to earn his way into her good graces once more.

"Ahem…" coughed Miss Corinth, widening her eyes at him.

He knit his brow at her. He looked over at Abbie who was tiredly blinking her eyes, her head tilted impatiently. He cleared his throat, "Ah, yes, Lieutenant, allow me to introduce Miss Corinth. She is currently tutoring me in preparation for my citizenship exam. Miss Corinth, this is Lieut…Miss Abigail Mills. She is…," explained Crane, before being interrupted hastily.

"His roommate," Abbie finished firmly, extending her hand to greet her. "I'm Abbie. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss Corinth?"

Crane frowned. The word 'roommate' did not imply any type of bond worthy of describing theirs. He knew he deserved her indifference after comporting himself in such an undignified manner. It was shameful. Nonetheless, he could not stand to be dismissed as merely her "roommate". She had done it to him once already with Agent Reynolds. He could not stand for it a second time. He was about to interject when Miss Corinth spoke.

"Likewise, Miss Mills. And you can just call me Zoe. Ichabod has told me so much about you," she said effusively.

Abbie raised her eyebrow and chuckled nervously. "Oh really? That's…unnecessary of him," she said, smiling tightly and glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

He looked at her in confusion. How could it possibly be unnecessary of him to praise her for everything she had done for him? Of course he would boast of her kindness and generosity. She had saved his life countless times – he owed her everything. He searched her passive expression with his eyes, attempting to gain her attention, to get a feel for her state of mind, but she continued to evade his gaze.

After a moment, Abbie cheerfully widened her eyes and let out a deep breath. "Listen, don't mind me. I'll just be in and out," she said quickly, turning to leave.

Before she could walk away, Ichabod took a step forward and swiftly asked, "Oh, do you have plans this evening, Lieutenant?"

She had not informed him of any plans, but she rarely went out without inviting him. On the occasions he was not invited, she ensured that he knew ahead of time. Though, her behavior was highly irregular. If she was upset, she would have at least glared at him. She would not have acted so passively or evasively. There was something else troubling her. She, of course, would not reveal it to him in front of their guest, but he could at least attempt to discern if it had to do with his indiscretion or something else entirely.

She paused mid-step and took a deep breath. She turned back around, still avoiding his gaze. She bit her lip and murmured affirmatively, "Mmm."

He narrowed his gaze before tilting his chin up. She was not going to elaborate. Instead, she had reverted to grunting. It was not the first time he had encountered moments of unintelligible chunter. He was, after all, a former captain of young, untried soldiers; his patience had already been tested to its limits centuries ago. If she thought her refusal to use words or give him her attention would discourage him from inquiring further, she was mistaken.

"You did not mention any previous engagements earlier," he pointed out, patiently awaiting her explanation.

She smiled tightly and exhaled through her nose. She finally looked up to meet his gaze. "It just came up," she said through clenched teeth.

So, she was not going to tell him willingly. Very well, he would extract the information using the skills he developed as a former spy for General Washington. His training made him capable of extracting information from even the most unyielding British soldier. Abigail Mills was no Redcoat, but he was ready for the challenge. Then he saw the defiance in her eyes and all coherent thought left him. She silently dared him with her eyes to make his move. His hands twitched at his sides. Only she could make him feel nettled and excited at the same time. This was not the time to think such thoughts, he admonished himself. Instead, he challenged her with a subtle raise of his eyebrows, moving his head to one side.

"Oh? With whom?" he demanded enviously, failing to feign disinterest, his resolve to rely on his interrogation skills weakening.

Abbie stood still, calmly eyeing him. It unnerved him to see her so stoic. He swallowed nervously. His attempt to discover the cullion whom she had an engagement with was fruitless. The attempt to discern the source of her upset was unsuccessful. His resolve slowly faded away. She would have been an excellent spy in his time, far more skillful and effective than the entire spy ring combined. She silently blinked at him several times before turning to their guest.

"Zoe, it was really nice to finally meet you. Stay as long as you want. Excuse me," she said, swiftly departing from the room, ignoring his last inquiry.

Crane gaped at her retreating form in exasperation and awe. She could be so frustrating and yet so skilled at revealing nothing. It was maddening and arousing, all at the same time. He glanced over at Miss Corinth. She raised her eyebrow at him. He opened and closed his mouth, attempting to make intelligible words in the midst of his current state. He made a few grunts and squeaks before finding the words he wanted to say. "She is…I apologize, Miss Corinth; however, I believe our study session has come to an end," he said with a slight bow of his head.

Disappointed, she knit her brow. "Really? I thought we could go over it a little bit more. You know, cover all our bases. If you're up for it?" she asked with a note of hope in her voice, waggling her eyebrows.

The color drained from his face as he shook his head nervously. "Ah, yes, erhm, thank you. I deeply cherish your kindness and assistance this evening; however, I must decline your offer to 'cover all our bases'," he said as graciously as he could muster. He did not have the heart to dismissively state that their actions were a mistake and that he had no intention of ever furthering their acquaintance beyond its current state. Besides, he still needed her to help him attain his citizenship. He needed to mindful of his words and actions.

Miss Corinth nodded her head, reluctantly collecting her things. "It's her, isn't it?"

Crane feigned to be taken aback by her comment, looking away uneasily. It was disconcerting to know how obvious his emotions were toward Abbie. He couldn't allow his sentiments to be discovered by anyone, save the object of his desire. It could put her in danger.

"Lieuten…Miss Mills? No, of course not. I…it is late. I mustn't keep you any longer," he said hurriedly, helping Miss Corinth to collect her books and papers. He could not have this conversation with his tutor. For one, it was inappropriate given their recent actions. Moreover, he could not fully trust her with the secrets he held close to his heart.

Miss Corinth stopped and looked at him until he paused and apprehensively returned her gaze. "So, does she know?" she asked with a hint of understanding.

"Hmm? Know? Know what?" he asked nonchalantly, returning to his task and straightening out the stack of textbooks on the table.

"Does she know you're in love with her?"

His fingers froze over the books. "P-pardon?" he stuttered.

"You're in love with Abigail Mills, your roommate."

He shook his head in denial and attempted to clarify. Ms. Corinth could not be privy to that information unless he had been wearing his emotions on his face. He had acted irresponsibly in not masking his sentiments. That sensitive information could be easily used against him and Abbie in their mission. He needed to detract attention from his evident vulnerability. He dismissively stammered, "I…we…it is not at all...we simply share a bond and the same residence."

She nodded sagely. "And you practically spend all your time with each other. I've never seen two people so attached at the hip," she pointed out.

He looked at her glibly. "We are separate people and not in any way anatomically attached. As I've said, we simply share a sacred bond," he said coolly, hoping his indifferent attitude would be enough for her to lose interest in exposing his sentiments.

"Yeah, people don't describe their roommates that way."

He stumbled through yet another unconvincing explanation, trying – and failing – to hide his apparently obvious feelings for the Lieutenant. "I care for the Lieutenant, but it is more complicated than what you may imagine. I am not…we are not….," he stuttered frustratingly.

"Why do you call her 'Lieutenant'? Didn't you say she was an agent?"

"Yes, of course. At present. However, she was previously a lieutenant before becoming an agent."

"So why not agent, if that's what she does? 'Lieutenant'? It kind of sounds like a pet name."

"Tis merely an endearment, a display of my regard."

"So…kind of a pet name."

"Miss Mills is no one's 'pet'," he replied firmly, appalled at the insinuation that the Lieutenant was anybody's domesticated possession.

Miss Corinth widened her eyes and held her hands up in surrender, collecting her bag of materials. He rolled his eyes at his severity with her. He had not intended to be so brusque. He huffed and quickly expressed his regret. "I apologize for my tone, Miss Corinth. I did not intend to be ill-mannered. Please forgive me."

"It's fine, Ichabod. I understand," she sighed, uncomfortably shifting her bag on her shoulder.

"No, it was an unacceptable demonstration of deplorable comportment."

She gave him a sad smile and shook her head sympathetically. "You're in love. We all do silly things when we're in love."

He sighed and looked at her in defeat. He must accept it was impossible for him to hide his blossoming feelings toward the Lieutenant, even from Miss Corinth. He did indeed feel as though they were developing into those of love.

What began as a reluctant partnership with Abbie grew into a fondness incomparable to any he had experienced before. From there it grew into a friendship, then into an attraction, and finally into what he was currently experiencing. It was incomparable to that which he experienced in his youth, or even with Katrina. It certainly felt as the modern songs and films described – falling. It was frightening, graceless, and sudden. He had no control over it; however, she was Grace Abigail Mills. She was his partner, his fellow Witness, his colleague, and his closest friend. In many ways, the only true and dearest friend he'd ever had. It terrified him to no end to think about how a romantic relationship with her could endanger their unparalleled partnership and friendship. He could not imagine losing his best friend over his recklessness and inability to provide her with the love she deserved. He had no desire to risk the most precious relationship he'd ever been a part of, but he did not want to live the rest of his fleeting life full of regret. There was also the tablet and its prophecy about them being soul mates, something he had yet to reveal to her. To put it plainly, it was complicated.

He sighed dejectedly. "Tis not that simple," he remarked sullenly.

Miss Corinth shook her head in pity. "Ichabod, love isn't complicated. Either you do or you don't."

He tightly smiled. Of course, Miss Corinth could never understand. There were many things about him and Abbie that she could never know about. It would never be simple for them. Love was full of complications. Their lives were constantly threatened. He couldn't even reveal his true feelings for her to his tutor or any other stranger to their mission. The enemy would prey upon any vulnerability they showed. He could not be her weakness.

He nodded civilly and smiled. "Well, you've left me with much to reflect upon," he replied insincerely.

Miss Corinth's ignorant advice was irksome. She did not understand his frustration. He desired Abbie but short of her approaching him directly and stating that she wanted to have a relationship with him, he couldn't risk their lives for an uncertainty. Even with this in mind, his need, his longing to have her near, to feel her lips upon his own, was too great to ignore.

He led Miss Corinth to the door, stopping at its threshold to bid her farewell. She turned and looked at him with piercing blue eyes. "After you've decided which path to take; or if she decides not to return your feelings, I'll be waiting, Ichabod. I am more than willing to let you try your luck with my heart. Anytime," she breathed. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek.

He nodded and bowed courteously. He was absolutely certain he could never truly bestow his love upon Miss Corinth, regardless of Abbie's choice. Miss Corinth could never replace her and give him what he wanted, or even what he needed. She was far too naïve, too defenseless. He would not be able to live with himself if he corrupted her idealism of an ordinary world. He half-heartedly waved as she giggled and walked away, stopping every so often to turn around and smile at him. After a while, he entered the house and closed the door.

He was not looking forward to fighting off Miss Corinth's advances from now on. She had taken the first step and she was a perseverant woman. He decided he needed to limit his communications with her as he stared down at his phone. She had already sent him a smiley face emoji with a cheerful wish of sweet dreams. He pocketed his phone without replying and peered up the interminable stairs. He was certainly going to need all the luck in the world if he ever wanted to have sweet dreams again. He was not looking forward to having the long-awaited, tense discussion with Abbie about their relationship. He nervously flexed his hands thinking about the climb ahead of him.

He took the first step up the stairs when, suddenly, she appeared at the top. His jaw dropped open. Her provocative clothing hugged her irresistible curves and accentuated her blessed assets. His pulse quickened as he dedicated her glorious image to memory. His lieutenant was a heavenly vision.

In that moment, regret had never tasted so bitter.

*shyly pokes head out* Hi, again. Please don't hate me. I know this chapter was not the Ichabbie you may have been looking for but I promise it was necessary to get to the good stuff. I did not find joy in torturing the characters but I've always been about the character development. I firmly believe we all have to go through the crappy parts of life to appreciate the good ones. Although, given the direction the show is going, it's probably not something you'd like to read, at this moment in time. I just ask for your trust. Ichabbie will happen in this story.

Anyway, I'd like to once again thank my beta, krashingkritter, for working miracles with this story. Thank you! You are AMAZING!

And to conclude, leave a review and let me know what you think. I'm hard on myself so your reviews help me see this story for what it is rather than what I make it out to be. They help give me perspective and, in all honesty, I absolutely love reading what you have to say. It just puts a silly smile on my face. :) Thank you!

Your humble fanfic writer with a plan,

semul