Sleep was the last thing on Abigail Mills' mind.

When she left the dining room and retreated to the safety of her bedroom, she considered rolling up into a ball on her bed, pulling the covers over her head, and crying into her pillow for the rest of the night. Her heart was in pain. Nothing new really. There was a reason she kept it under guard and this was just a harsh reminder about how important it was to keep a safe distance from potentially heartbreaking situations.

She needed to learn to temper her expectations. Crane had rejected her once before, it was only logical that he stay consistent. She just refused to see what was in front of her because she didn't want to see. She wanted to believe with every fiber of her being that there was something between them, a small possibility of happiness. It wrenched her insides to come to the realization that she just wasn't what he desired.

She wanted the depression she was feeling to numb her but as she desolately moped about her room, torturing herself by trying not to imagine what her roommate and his tutor were doing downstairs, she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror. What she saw made her stop and curiously eye her reflection.

She felt like she had shattered into a million pieces but the reality was that she was still whole. She studied herself in the mirror. No missing pieces, no physical evidence of the agonizing pain she was feeling, even though her eyes told a different story. She blinked at the unhappy gaze reflecting back at her. That woman wasn't the person she had come to love. She wasn't the one who had survived hell and made it out alive. That sad reflection wasn't the Abbie Mills that never relied on another person to make her feel alive. She clenched her teeth and gazed into her eyes determinedly.

Nobody but herself was responsible for her happiness. She couldn't just wait for somebody to decide if or when to love her; she deserved more than that. She slowly turned to the side and examined her svelte figure. She was whole and she was fine as hell. She was in her prime and her life was too goddamn fleeting to waste pining after an impossibility. She nodded at herself and took a deep breath. Enough with the self-pity, she decided. She needed to move on. She hastily opened up her closet and pulled out the stunning outfit she'd been meaning to wear since cutting off her long locks.

She needed to get out of the house and find some distraction. As she quickly freshened up and changed, she considered going to a club but really didn't feel like fighting off the groping hands of drunk idiots. She thought about calling up some colleagues from the bureau but didn't feel like listening to coworkers bitch about work. So instead, she texted Jenny. Wearing an outfit that made her feel sexy and kicking back a few beers with her sister at the tavern was exactly what she needed. Maybe afterward she could sleepover at Jenny's place. A night away from Crane would help clear her head.

After a few minutes, she was ready. She picked up her cell phone and texted Jenny. Luckily her sister replied back almost immediately. After a few exchanged messages, Abbie made her way to the stairs. She was too distracted by her phone to notice her roommate's still presence at the foot of the stairs.

Ignorant to his immobile state, she scrolled through her messages, deciding what to text back:

hey you working tonight?

yeah what's up?

i need a drink

you ok?

She sighed at the last text. She wanted to tell her sister the truth but a text wouldn't be enough.

She quickly typed, i'll see you in a few

After sending the text, she brushed her hair out of her face and looked up from her phone. Crane stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, one foot resting on the bottom stair with his hand hovering over the banister. He gaped at her. He looked as petrified as the statues in the Gorgon's underground lair. She raised her eyebrow.

"Crane, you alright?"

He blinked out of his stupor and stammered, "I…y-yes. Yes, of course. You look…eh…"

She looked at him expectantly, noting his nervousness. She'd rarely seen him this flustered around her. Was she imagining things or were his cheeks and ears turning red? She looked at him disconcertedly.

She just hoped it wasn't obvious how much of an effort it took to peel herself away from her room. He still had no clue how she felt or what she had planned to do before her efforts were thwarted by the scene in the dining room. She shook her head, ridding herself of the notion, and tried to casually dismiss her outfit as nothing out of the ordinary.

"Oh, yeah, it's new. Well, had it in the back of the closet for a while. Thought I'd try it out," she shrugged nonchalantly, letting her hand glide down the sleeve of her sheer blouse. She wore a short black mini skirt, her rarely used strappy black stilettos, and a long-sleeved, low cut, burgundy blouse.

Yet, in spite of her current state of flawlessness and the pep talk she gave herself in the mirror, standing like this front of him, she felt like an idiot. How could she not have seen it? It was obvious Crane would be into his tutor. 'Miss Corinth' was exactly his type: quirky, into colonial stuff, and not her. It was a painful truth to accept but it was reality. To Crane, Abbie was just his partner. The person he got stuck with in this futile mission. His friend and current roommate, nothing more.

Although, looking down at his gawping expression, she wondered if she had been a bit hasty in coming to her conclusion. His darkened blue eyes steadily scanned her from the bottoms of her heels, up her smooth legs, over the curves of her body, and up to her tousled hairdo then back down again. He had never so openly studied her before.

If she didn't know any better, she could've sworn that he was checking her out. She knit her brow and slightly pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. Her profiling training kicked in. She studied his body language to confirm her suspicions. Dilated pupils, slightly open mouth, rapid breathing, flushed skin, and…whoa, let's keep our eyes forward, Abbie admonished herself as she glanced below his waist.

She blinked in realization. He was checking her out. Impressive, she grinned, wordlessly congratulating herself for her ability to elicit some sort of a reaction from him.

The absurdity of the situation was laughable. Here she was trying her best to get over him and there he was finally noticing her. She silently scoffed and held back her mirth. Life had a way of screwing up her plans but it sure as hell didn't mind giving her the chance to appreciate its ironies.

"Crane?" she gently called, teasingly smirking, trying to bring him back from wherever his mind wandered to.

His eyes shot up from where they had been admiring the swell of her hips. Looking a bit horrified with his evident ogling, he closed his eyes as his hands twitched nervously.

"Eh, apologies, Lieutenant. I…y-you look quite…very...ahem," he spluttered, clearing his throat nervously. He opened his eyes and held her gaze for a moment before murmuring, "You are exquisite."

His complement and intense stare caught her off guard. He'd never complimented her looks before while giving her those bedroom eyes. She unsurely looked down at her outfit and then up at him again. Her eyelashes fluttered nervously. His gaze melted into a tender stare.

This was definitely not the reaction she was expecting. Not that she wasn't enjoying it. She just couldn't handle the sudden switch up. He couldn't kiss other women, compliment her, and then expect her to be at his beck and call. That's not how this was going to work. She wasn't anybody's second choice or side dish, especially his. She had enough of feeling like that when Katrina was around.

She looked away uncomfortably. Speaking of playing second fiddle, she looked past him, where was his tutor?

"Thanks. So where'd Zoe go?" she asked casually.

Crane blinked at her a moment, as if forgetting who she was talking about. This was definitely unexpected. With his often bragged about eidetic memory, she rarely had to prompt him to remember things. It appeared her outfit not only had the power to draw out compliments but to give temporary amnesia. She smirked. She should have worn this ages ago.

When the name finally processed, he closed his eyes in realization. "Ah, yes, Miss Corinth. She…she returned to her home," he stammered.

"Oh, I hope I didn't interrupt something..."

"No. No. No, of course not."

She nodded expectantly at him. He nervously rested his hands behind his back, briefly avoiding eye contact with her. She looked away as an awkward silence fell over them.

"So, um, I'm just gonna…," she said, motioning toward the stairs and at where he stood blocking the bottom step.

He snapped out of his reverie. "Oh, are you in need of assistance?" he offered eagerly, ready to bound up the stairs to help her.

Abbie held out her hand and flashed a smile, quickly replying, "No! No, I got this. I just…you're blocking the stairs, Crane."

"Oh, of course! Yes, apologies," he said backing away, eyeing her nervously. Before stepping off the stairway, he looked up at her hesitantly once more. "Are you certain you are not in need of assistance?" he offered again, ready to take another step up.

"I got this," she reassured him, carefully making her way down the stairs, keeping a firm hold on the banister. He backed off the steps and silently stared as she slowly descended. She felt like she was in a 90's movie making her way to the gallant protagonist. All that was missing was the cheesy rom-com music in the background. It was extremely awkward so she forced herself to start up a conversation midflight.

"So, how'd the studying go?" she asked casually, keeping her focus on the steps in front of her, regretting not putting on her heels on later. When he didn't immediately respond, she glanced up through her eyelashes to see him staring at her legs.

He distractedly hummed before quickly responding, "Hmm? Oh, it went well."

Abbie glanced out of the side of her eye in frustration. Of course Mr. Always Proper wasn't going to admit to making out with his tutor. She really didn't want to have this conversation but she needed to tell him what she saw.

For one, because she never wanted to experience a repeat. And two, because she needed to move on. Saying it out loud, recognizing it for what it was, would help her come to terms with the reality of the situation. It didn't help that he was denying it. She needed him to admit it.

Swallowing back her irritation, she teasingly prodded, "Oh yeah? Only 'well'?"

He stopped gawping her and suspiciously looked into her eyes. Uneasily, he carefully replied, "Yes, only well. Why do you ask?"

Abbie shrugged as she lowered her eyes, making her way to the last step. She truly didn't care for details, she'd fall to pieces if he told her how magical it was, but she needed to let him know that his face sucking session didn't go unnoticed.

As she approached the last step, Crane held out his hand with the gentle bow of his head. She looked at the top of his shaggy hair, taken aback by his chivalry. God, why did he have to do this? she thought. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to stop feeling this overwhelming desire to make him hers. Why couldn't he just make this easy?

She took a deep breath and gave him her hand. It nearly disappeared in his as his long fingers gently folded around it. She stepped off the stairs and came toe to toe with him. He held her hand near his bowed head. He peered up at her as pieces of his hair fell over his brow. She gazed into his intense blue eyes before slipping her hand out of his grasp and looking away. Her heart beat wildly. How is it that he had this ability to make her lose control? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

She cleared her throat as he straightened up. Even with her stilettos she was still several inches shorter than him. She barely came up to his chin. As he loomed over her, mere inches between them, a fleeting thought of spilling her guts to him came over her. What if she told him that she had chosen him? Would he still reject her? Would he want her? But just as quickly as the thought came, it disappeared. She smiled tightly and walked around him to the hallway closet to find her coat.

She called behind her, "Zoe seems really nice. It's generous of her to offer to help you with your citizenship stuff. Are you planning to do something to repay her?"

Crane slowly strolled behind her, his hands folded behind his back, and knit his brow. "I don't follow."

Abbie took a breath and stopped in front of the closet. She needed to control herself and not reveal her heartbreak. She flashed a smile at him and opened the closet, reaching for her short trench coat. She falsely chirped, "Well, I'm pretty sure a few kisses here and there aren't going to be enough to express your appreciation."

She could hear a falter in his steps. "Sorry?"

She glanced at him as she slipped into her coat. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn there was terror in his eyes. She buttoned up her buttons and carefully muttered, "I may have walked in on you guys doing your…thing."

He took in a sharp breath. She quickly glanced up at him again. His looked stunned to say the least. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead tightly smiled. He stuttered, "Y-you witnessed that? Lieutenant, I did not intend to…"

She grinned sardonically and waved it off as she searched for the handbag that matched her coat in the next room. Her mission was accomplished. She just wanted him to admit to it and know that she knew. She didn't need the details. She didn't need clarification.

She quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear his explanation. "Hey, there's no need for you to explain. And good for you. She's a good one," she congratulated him, walking into the living room.

He stalked after her. "No, Lieutenant, you must allow me explain. T'was not as it seemed. She kissed me," he hastily defended.

She widened her eyes as she slowly picked up her handbag. Oh, God, here come the details, she thought, frantically trying to think of a subtle way of putting an end to the conversation. "Oh, well, good for her then," she said simply, patting his arm and quickly sidestepping him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and waved his hands. "No, you misunderstand, I had no desire to kiss her," he further explained, trailing after her.

She paused in the middle of the hallway as she tightened the belt around her coat. She tilted her head toward him and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Outraged at the silent insinuation, he shut his mouth firmly and widened his eyes. He held up his finger. "She did not force herself upon me..."

She huffed tiredly. "You keep on trying to explain, Crane, but you really don't have to. It's okay. It really is."

She continued walking, heading for the door as quickly as her stilettos would let her. As she reached for the door handle, he spoke the last words she needed to hear in that moment.

"It was unlike our moment in the cabin, if that is what you were implying," he said gently, stopping her in her tracks.

She was dumbfounded. After all these months, after everything, he finally decided to bring it up. She shook her head and scoffed. Clearly he lacked the ability to live in denial. It really shouldn't have been surprising considering his past: the man was incapable of tact. Leave it to Ichabod Crane to destroy all the efforts she had made to move past that moment, to let him off the hook. She took a deep breath. If he wanted to open that can of worms, so be it.

She lowered her hand from the doorknob. She rubbed the inside of her cheek with her tongue and turned to him unimpressed. "Really? You gonna bring that up now?"

He nodded firmly and held his twitchy hands at his sides. "Tis time we face our past. We have avoided this conversation for far too long."

"Yeah? Alright," she sniffed defensively. Before she could stop herself, all the resentments she had been holding back for the past year came flooding out like water through a broken dam. Everything she had thought she had forgiven and put behind her came rushing out before she could stop it.

"And what conversation did you want to have, Crane, hmm?" she asked defensively, taking few menacing steps toward him, "The one about you blaming me for your wife and son's death? Or how about the one where you disappeared for nine months with a single goddamn word? Or maybe you just wanted to focus on that unforgettable moment where I practically jumped your bones when you were at your most vulnerable?"

He resignedly closed his eyes before explaining, "I understand that I…'screwed up'. I should have never placed the blame upon you for Katrina and Henry's death. It was inexcusable. They made their choices and they were solely responsible for their own deaths. As for leaving, I can never express to you how ashamed I am of my thoughtless actions. T'was cowardly and dishonorable. I can only ask for your forgiveness in that matter."

Before continuing, he held up his finger and widened his eyes. "Nevertheless, our moment, the intimacy we shared, was far more profound than what you described," he said solemnly, lowering his finger and taking a step toward her.

She looked at him disbelievingly. "Intimacy? Profound? God, Crane, all that was missing was you vomiting in my face to really sum up that night," she scoffed, folding her arms.

He raised his eyebrow. "From what I recall, our profoundly intimate moment was hindered by my inability to accept in good conscience what you had so generously offered," he clarified.

"Woah, wait. Offered?" she scoffed as he nodded. She had no idea how he could make drunk fumbling sound like an intentional romantic gesture. Sure, they had shared a moment but it certainly wasn't anything she had intentionally planned. She needed to set things straight.

"Crane, you were drunk and I wasn't in a very good place. You were still mourning the loss of your family and I was just feeling sorry for myself. It was the heat of the moment. A mistake," she coolly explained.

He looked at her stoically. She'd never reduced him to silence before. She hoped it was enough to end the conversation. She looked at him skeptically waiting for him to apologize or uncomfortably dismiss the conversation.

After a moment, he simply said, "No."

"No?"

"T'was not a mistake," he said easily, taking another step toward her until he was standing right in front of her.

His closeness was unnerving. She could feel the heat radiate off his body. She could smell the detergent he used on his clothes. All her senses were on high alert. Her fingers twitched in their sudden urge to run up and down his firm abdomen. She sneered uncomfortably, trying her best to deny her temptations, and took a discreet step back toward the door.

She lowered her gaze and said dismissively, "Yeah, it was a mistake. I tried kissing you and you weren't having it. At least one of us was in their right minds that night."

"Lieutenant…"

She held up her hand. She didn't want to hear anymore. The more he explained, the more sense it made. And, frankly, she was starting to feel overwhelmed. Sure, she had felt ready to start a relationship with Crane mere moments ago but, now, the reality was setting in. She wasn't ready. She hadn't thought it through. She was impulsively thinking when she had made her decision earlier that night.

She remembered that she didn't want to risk their partnership, their friendship. Crane was too important to her to screw him up with all her nonsense. Because she would. She would end up shutting him out. She would end up blaming him. She'd end up hurting him. She couldn't bear to think how she would destroy him and how he would end up resenting her, hating her, pitying her like he did with Katrina. She needed to end this now.

"Listen, Crane, I really, really don't want to talk about this right now, alright? I gotta go," she said tiredly, unfolding her arms and reaching for the doorknob.

Just as she opened it slightly, he leaned his hand against the door and shut it. She looked up at him incredulously. Was he actually trying to prevent her from leaving her own house? She blinked at him disbelievingly.

"You're kidding me, right?"

He took a step closer until they were practically sharing the same breath. He looked at her challengingly and lowered his voice. His deep rumble sent shivers up her spine. "I understand your reluctance to discuss that particular affair. However, it transpired and it was undoubtedly profound. I wanted to kiss you then and I want to kiss you now, Grace Abigail Mills. Nothing, not even you, shall convince me otherwise."

She swallowed nervously. He continued gazing at her intensely. Pretending to be unaffected, she looked away and folded her arms once more. She needed to stay strong. If the reasons she had just laid out in her head weren't enough, she needed to focus on his flaws. Yes, his flaws. His flaws. He had plenty of those, she reasoned, struggling to come up with any at the moment.

Oh! Of course, she recalled. She had just caught him kissing another woman. He destroyed her motivation to initiate a relationship with him. She couldn't accept such a flawed man, especially when he hadn't put enough effort into proving to her that he was worthy of her affections. Yes, good reason, she reassured herself.

A very good reason to stay away from him. An extremely good reason to leave the house, right now. If she didn't leave this very moment, she'd unquestionably do something she'd regret in the long run. An overwhelming need to escape came over her.

As if reading her mind, he graciously opened the door, bowing, and gallantly gesturing out. "The evening awaits you, my lady," he murmured.

She glanced up at him. He kept his head bowed, not daring to look at her. She couldn't tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic. Either way, his tousled hair, his luscious pink lips surrounded by his thick beard, his lightly tanned skin, and those sinfully long fingers tormented her. All her pent up frustrations, the need to make him hers and only hers, the need to stay true to herself, clutched at her heart. Why did it all have to get so muddled?

She clenched her jaw. Stay strong, Abbie, stay strong, she repeated to herself. She took a deep breath and quickly walked out the door. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked down the porch steps and into her car. Good thing it was dark outside because she could feel the heat rise up to her face. It was never obvious when she blushed but right now she could feel the red emanating off not only her cheeks but other parts of her body she didn't know were capable of turning red.

Oh she was definitely going to need more than a few beers to make it through tonight.

Jenny gazed at her sister sitting at the bar. She could always tell when Abbie was feeling overwhelmed. And, right now, Abbie was overwhelmed.

She could tell the instant her sister walked in that things were becoming messy, muddled. Abbie could no longer separate everything and keep it all balanced in their neat little categories. Her work life, her personal life, and the Witness life were overlapping. Everything was a push away from crumbling into a heap of chaos. Her control freak of a sister was losing control.

So she did what any sister would do, she ignored Abbie's request for a beer and set down six shots of tequila, three for her and three for her sister. Mike didn't mind. Well, more like what her boss didn't know, didn't hurt him. By the third shot, Abbie had finished telling her about her awkward encounter with Crane.

"So he wanted to kiss you?"

"Yeah."

"And he still wants to?"

Abbie sighed and confirmed it with the raise of her eyebrows, as she toyed with the corner of her napkin.

Jenny leaned against the opposite side of the bar, prodding her to go on. When she didn't, she huffed impatiently, desperate to know what happened, "So did you?"

She looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "What? God, no. He literally just finished sucking the face off his tutor. I couldn't just…get in line," she described uneasily, brushing her hand to the side.

Jenny frowned pensively, as she filled a bowl with mini pretzels. "Sounds like there was nobody else in line until you let somebody cut in front of you."

Abbie winced. "You make it sound like some sort of carnival ride."

"Well, I'm pretty sure he'd probably ride like one, especially after all the years of foreplay…" she teased, raising her hand to her mouth in mock shame for saying something so crude. She jokingly corrected herself, "Sorry, I meant years of bantering."

Her sister rolled her eyes disbelievingly, holding back a smirk. "Do you always have to make everything sound so dirty?"

Jenny shrugged as she arranged a few drinks on her tray. "It's the truth."

She left her sister to think as she went to serve the drinks to customers sitting at the tables. When she returned, she set down her tray and looked at her expectantly.

Abbie glanced at her and shook her head. She slid her forefingers along the rim of her empty shot glass. She sighed heavily. "I just don't know anymore," she murmured, picking the conversation back up.

"Of course you do," grinned Jenny.

Her sister looked up at her skeptically.

"Go home, run into that man's scrawny arms, and say, 'Captain, my Captain, take me, I'm ready.' You know, the whole romantic novel thing," she said flippantly as she poured a drink for another customer.

Abbie widened her eyes and sarcastically replied, "Yeah, because that's how reality works."

Jenny scoffed. She leaned in close to her sister and smirked. She lowered her voice and raised her eyebrow, "You want real? Go home, get naked, stand in front of him, and wait. Once his brain stops short-circuiting, you'll be going at it like deprived rabbits."

Abbie looked at her as if she doubted sharing any DNA with her. "Jesus, Jenny. How twisted can you get?" she said admonishingly.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Come on. Don't blame me. I'm just getting tired of all the back and forth. You want him, then have him. It's as simple as that. Screw all the rest."

"Oh yeah? That simple?"

"Trust me, Abs. I know you. When you want something, it's yours, end of story. And you want him."

Her sister scrunched her eyes closed and scratched the back of her head in frustration. She opened her eyes and stared at her sister determinedly. "I just…I just want things to be simple again. Work is work, home is home, and the mission is the mission," she said, gesturing the separation of each category with her hands.

Jenny picked at the chipped wood on the bar and shook her head. Her experience reminded her that life was never that reasonable. Something would always come back to bite her in the ass. She sighed, "Things never stay that simple."

Resigned, Abbie nodded. "Yeah."

Jenny knit her brow. "Then why are you trying to force it?"

Her sister looked at her without conviction. "What else can I do?"

She shrugged as she filled up a couple of mugs of beer. "I don't know. Figure it out. Not knowing something never stopped you before. Why let it stop you now?"

Jenny left her sister to ponder. She served some more drinks and picked up empty bottles and mugs. When she returned a few minutes later, Abbie gave her a small smile.

"What?" asked Jenny unsurely as she threw away the empty bottles and washed a few glasses.

Her sister smiled at her for a moment. She looked down at the empty shot glass. "I never got to thank you," she murmured.

"For what?" asked Jenny, wiping her hands dry with a towel.

Abbie held out a shrug. "I don't know. For everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jenny smirked as she flipped the towel over her shoulder. "Don't get me used to all these compliments. I'll start filling you up with tequila more often."

Her sister shook her head and smiled gently. "I just thought you should know."

She shrugged nonchalantly, appreciating her sister's praise, and replied, "Yeah, well, I guess you're alright, too."

Abbie grinned.

If only Jenny had known that this was the last time she would get a chance to spend a night out with her sister. She would have made it count. But instead of talking about the important stuff, they talked about mundane things, basically anything to avoid talking about Crane. Abbie asked her about Joe. Jenny asked about any upcoming cases at work. They reminisced a little. They talked about their short-term plans for the future. Abbie went up to sing karaoke a couple of times. Jenny introduced her to some of the patrons. They ended the night with a few new phone numbers and a couple of fond memories.

If Jenny would have known about the whirlwind that was about to come, she would have told Abbie to forgive herself, once and for all. She wasn't to blame for what happened to mama. She had no control over what happened to her throughout the whole Moloch thing. Their father didn't leave them because of her. Crane rejecting and leaving her for nine months wasn't her fault.

She should have told her to let things go, to stop punishing herself. She didn't need to sacrifice anything anymore. Her slate was clean. She should have said all these things to her but she didn't.

Yes, if Jenny knew she was going to lose her sister, she would have definitely done things differently.

Long time no see, eh? Sorry about the delay but here it is! I really hope you liked it.

So I've decided to take this story and use it to fill in gaps again. That mid-season finale had me feeling all sorts of things and knowing the show's propensity for skipping over details, I'm going to be picking up where the show left off in the next chapter. I'm super excited! All the lovely angst to work with...mmm, so good.

Shout out to my beta, krashingkritter, who I hope will soon be rejoining me in developing this story. I missed having your input and revisions on this one.

And, as always, leave a review if you'd like. I love the feedback! How'd you like the chapter? How'd you like the mid-season finale? Are feeling any Ichabbie vibes from the show? Are you as hopeful as I am that they'll finally start making it more obvious during the second half of the season? Please, oh please, make it so. ;)

Your humble bumbling writer,

semul