A thousand favours from a maund she drew
Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet,
Which one by one she in a river threw,
Upon whose weeping margent she was set;
Like usury, applying wet to wet,
Or monarch's hands that let not bounty fall
Where want cries some, but where excess begs all.
W. Shakespeare.
Two weeks of absolute bliss.
That's how long he had with Katrina, from the time they awoke side by side in that field until the moment he realized…..
Two weeks
Crane could pinpoint, in his head, the moment things began to slowly turn in his mind. If he was truthful with himself, it was on the ride from the physician's home, he and Katrina in the back seat of the car.
She lay, curved into his arms and he, holding onto her for dear life.
"This is an odd carriage." She had remarked breathily, he assumed, still a bit foggy from her journey.
"You will find, my love, that things here are strange. "
"I had so hoped, foolishly, that we could have been returned to our time. To live out our own lives in mediocrity," Katrina opined.
He understood her desire; he had had much the same thought in the last seven months. To stop, to simply lay down the mantle and never fight again, "It is enough to know that we will face this together."
Katrina smiled up at him and slipped her long slim hand into hers, and that was when his descent into damnation began.
He stepped in front of the slide and the instant realization that the hand that held his was different. Not from his wife's even over the two hundred years she spent in Purgatory, she was the same. The absolute same. But.
The hand was all wrong. Too smooth, to long, too…..
Crane tossed aside the thought with a shake of his head like an errant leaf in a windstorm. He was intensely happy to have his wife at his side again.
And yet.
Abbie had dropped them off at the cabin with the promise of a return with some supplies and the insistence of being \off the job' for as long as she could hold the apocalypse at bay without him.
He watched Abbie's forced smile set into a hard line of assurance as she turned back toward her car. He took advantage of his own height and reach as he leaned around Katrina and took Abbie's arm. Crane tried not to be offended at the look that crossed his partner's face as he pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, Miss Mills." He spoke into her hair. She hesitated into the contact but eventually he felt her relent, pull her arms around him and even return the tightness of grasp.
"Don't thank me," Abbie replied, a sharp cadence hidden within the fierce whisper aimed to only him. "After you've had some time, we need to figure out exactly how this happened."
He nodded, but said nothing as she let go and he felt the distance in the millimeters as she moved away. Abbie moved backward toward the car. "It's nice to finally meet you Mrs. Crane. " She tossed.
"Pleasure's mine, honestly." Katrina offered. "And thank you, for everything."
Abbie shrugged and opened her car door. The Cranes waved as her car moved along the gravel road and into the distance.
"You two are close." Katrina observed.
He placed long hands on her shoulders and kissed her with all the jubilation he had felt upon finding her that morning. Crane felt all the joy of every single Christmas he had ever woken to, all culminated into one moment. "We should go inside," he murmured close to her ear.
And yet, he could not place the dissidence of reality, she was his wife, everything he recalled, she was the same, even her scent had not changed, nor blemished in the time apart from her.
And yet.
In defiance of his own hesitance, he took her by the hand and led her into the cabin. "I have missed you." he spoke slowly, with intent.
Katrina smiled and took his hand as they walked into the cabin. Together.
xXx
Two weeks he spent with his wife, in the cabin. It was just as it had been the first time after they were married. Katrina cooked for him and he in turn began to introduce her into present day society as easily and gently as possible.
Abbie Mills Had been his anchor in his emergence from death. She had been his true north when no one thing could point him in a direction home. She was his first contact in the morning, and the last face he saw at night.
And yet.
The second day into their reunion and Crane heard Abbie's Propriety kept car horn from the road. Before, she would have just walked in, made coffee and herself at home. Now, he could sense the imaginary barrier that had been thrown up between them. Propriety kept Abbie in her car and at a safe and respectable distance from married couple. The rules had changed and he wondered if it was more than just Katrina's return that had caused it.
He waited for her to exit the car and realized she would not come to him.
"Miss Mills." he greeted her, noting she only opened the door when he emerged from the cabin.
Abbie could see the joy written in his face, his eyes held the spark of pure joy. "Hey, Crane, " she nodded toward the figure looking out of the window. "How is she?"
"Good, she is good. Acclimating better than I did in this brave new world. " he smiled. "And how are you?"
Abbie nodded and turned back to the car. "I brought some things. Clothes for your wife. Figured at some point you two would want to emerge from the friendly confines."
He took the bag from her hands and thanked her. He studied her face but found nothing to belie the joy at seeing him that he had felt when seeing her. |Is everything all right?" he asked.
Abbie sighed to gather strength. "When you have time, we need to discuss what happened the other day."
Crane nodded, had known this was coming. "I don't recall much of that time after we were being carted off." He announced without looking at her.
"Me neither," Abbie admitted, hoisting the box of supplies out of the back seat. "But I am wondering if your wife does. "
He turned, taking the box from her and spoke in quick clipped tones. "She's not ready to discuss it." He said.
"And you know this because you asked her?"
"I know because she is my wife, and I know her better than I know anyone in this world. "
Abbie flinched at the protective tone in his voice, his words came harsher than he realized and she cleared her throat as a warning. "I understand that, Crane, but look at this as we have looked at things that we have come across in the last seven months. This could be a harbinger of something."
"She is not a harbinger, she is a human being, flesh and blood, who has been through an experience that no one else has. She spent over two hundred years in absolute solitude and abysmal half life. I will not upset her."
"Okay," she nodded. "It can wait. But Crane, at some point we have to question her."
He readjusted the box of food and bag of clothes in his hands and turned away from her. "When the time comes, Miss Mills, I assure you we will. Until that time, she needs rest and succor from the hardships she has had to deal with. "
"Uh huh." Abbie spit back, sliding into the front seat. "|'ll ca;; when shit gets real again."
"You do that," he answered over his shoulder.
xXx
"You must miss that weirdo pretty bad if you are desperate enough to be here on a weekend overnight." Irving's voice from the darkness of the late night Sheriff's office nearly sent her for her gun, Abbie considered using it anyway the split second before he placed the peace offering on her desk.
"Nope," she answered, inhaling the sweet scent of Hecky's Rib tips. Abbie reached for the bag on her desk like the last life boat coming off the Titanic. She reached her fingers into the crinkly, oil seeped bag and dragged forth a lone fry. "Mmmmmm," she smiled around the bite. "Not that I am decrying your offering of roasted meat, but I could ask you what sends you out here at…" she looks at the clock on her computer and is nearly shocked herself at the time. "2:34 in the morning."
"It's almost the Witching Hour." He shrugged and settled in across from her, diggining into his own portion. "Course, if Jenny was here and not in…"
"Dublin."
"Dublin, right. She would say that the last two weeks, every hour has become the witching hour."
Abbie nodded by way of answer. "She's a powerful witch that I will not argue with." Abbie said.
"Lest you be turned to something that croaks and lives on a lily pad." Irving smirked. He had been on the frontlines again this time as well. "We're lucky to have her."
"That remains to be seen, Captain. "
Irving gave her a look similar to that he had given his daughter many times, most recently when she decided to start dating. "You feeling some type of way about all of this, Mills?"
"Noo," Abbie hedged. "But I still can't find any answers as to A. How she got here, and two, who released her and why. "
Irving nodded and decided to attack the situation differently. "Have you discussed this with Crane?"
Abbie shook her head. "He's still on his second honeymoon. Its been so quiet around here since Katrina came and, I guess that is the part that is bugging the shit out of me—"
"That Katrina is back?" he asked leaning back into the seat.
"No, that it has been so quiet since she came back. Its eerie. I told Crane to take some time, you know? I figured I would leave them to it until something came up."
"But nothing's come up." Irving said. "Listen, before she left for.."
"Dublin, " Abbie supplied again.
"Right, Dublin. Jenny told me what happened; I mean the parts that you had left out in your unofficial official report. The imps, you two were out gunned. You should have died on that field, no back up. "
Abbie finished chewing on her last fry. "You're saying she saved our lives out there?"
"I'm saying we got a serious fight ahead of us. I think that this whole seven year thing is going to take its toll, on all of us. We are staring into the abyss here; maybe this was one for the good guys. I don't mean to sound too Pollyanic here, but maybe we are looking a gift horse in the mouth."
"Do you remember what came outta that horse later in the story?" she asked with a cock of her head.
"Fair enough." Irving said rising quickly and clearing the remnants of his meal. "Gp and talk to the Cranes. Find out what you can about the real story. I know you tried before, but maybe, they are a little tired of each other enough to come up for air. "
"Thanks for dinner, Captain." Abbie called after his disappearing form. "You never told me what you were doing here at this time of night."
Irving turned and shrugged. "Jut thought you might be hungry." He smiled and left through the glass doors.
xXx
Abbie reached the cabin the next morning to a spring day that reminded her of home plate. She parked the car and made her way to the front door. After receiving no answer from her knock, she made her way toward the sound of a woman's laughter that was like bells from an empty cathedral.
"Miss Mills," Crane waved to her from the path along the river. He turned and said something to his wife before running to meet her.
"Hey, nice day for a walk huh?" Abbie began with a smile she couldn't stop. "I see the clothes fit."
Katrina wore a simple summer gown with a wrap around her shoulders. The color was a good pick, and Abbie congratulated her own fashion sense.
"Come and meet her properly." Crane insisted, taking Abbie's hand in his. "I have told her so much about you, I feel she will love you instantly. "
"All right," Abbie acquiesced. "But we need to talk, Crane. You knew this was coming."
"I promise you, Abbie," he grinned big. "But, first, you should at least meet her. How can she properly trust you if you don't even get to know her first?"
Abbie wasn't so sure, but she followed his lead and came to stand as a trio under the beautiful late March sun. Introductions were made, Abbie smiled and laughed as Katrina told a story about Crane and a wayward pen of piglets.
The three stood at the river that ran directly in front of the old cabin. Crane held his wife's hand while Abbie held herself at a distance.
"It's beautiful." The red head announced, her crystalline voice sliced through the silence the three had been enjoying since emptying out of the sheriff's department issued carriage.
"It reminds me a bit of home, you recall Katrina? The little pond that followed a path to-"
Abbie stopped listening there, it wasn't any of her business what those two had shared, or would share, or were sharing now.
And yet, the pain of being excluded seeped into her bones a little with each word from her partner's mouth.
Katrina kneeled on the path and placed her naked feet into the river. Crane soon followed beside her as Abbie stood next to the two of them. "Come, Miss Mills." Katrina insisted. "Its most refreshing."
Abbie nodded but took a step back. She looked over the other side of the water and nearly screamed. "Crane, " she spoke calmly. "You two had better come on up."
Crane and Katrina turned to look at her. "Miss Mills, the water is perfectly fine." He insisted.
Abbie pointed and removed her gun with her other hand. "Now, Crane." She insisted.
He took his wife's hand and helped her out of the water. It wasn't until the three were standing that he realized what had his partner so concerned.
Off in the distance, seeping in small but increasing increments, on the banks of the river opposite where they stood, the water had become blood red.