I know it has been a shile, but RL s a RB. So here is one chapter and my other story will be updated soon too.

Enjoy and sorry

''Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,

Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine;

And supplicant their sighs to you extend,

To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine,

Lending soft audience to my sweet design,

And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath

That shall prefer and undertake my troth.'

W. Shakespeare

He stood in the bright sunlight of the spring afternoon. Abbie watched emotions crawl across his face with all of the determination of ants at a picnic. Frederick turned to face her then, his hand on her arm. "Miss Mills, have you ever experienced something so familiar that you question your own sanity."

Eyes that looked upon a different man with the same face offered an expression only the original would have known. Abbie shrugged.

Frederick pointed his elegant nose upward and sniffed. "What is more disconcerting." He began "Is that many of your fellows seemed to recognize me."

"Odd that." She offered moving toward her jeep.

Frederick skipped in order to catch up to her pace and pivoted around parked cars as she navigated the lot. He pulled at the door as she brought the driver's side open. "Miss Mills," he asserted with his hand still on the car door. "What is it that you are not telling me?"

Abbie folded her arms and smirked. "I didn't realize I had to tell you anything." She said.

He blew a heavy sigh upwards and flexed his large hands. "Please, don't be intentionally obtuse. " Frederick brought his hands to his hips but still did not meet the small woman's gaze.. "It's been the weirdest twenty four hours of my life. I have been in more normal haunted houses."

Abbie smirked at the reference and dipped her head "I'm with you on haunted houses. Those things give me the creeps."

Whatever mood Frederick Crane had manifested after his sojourn into the Westchester County Sheriff's Office was over. He finally met her gaze and offered Abbie a staggering smile that was so Crane like she staggered back a half step. "Miss Mills."

"Abbie," she corrected finally sliding into her vehicle.

"Abbie. " Frederick asserted with a nod. "Might I interest you in lunch?" he asked head ducked into her window.

Abbie stared forward knowing this was a bad idea, but he was so much like the man she missed. She placed her small hands onto the steering wheel and rolled her shoulders. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

Still crouched along the side of the Jeep with his hands dangling on the open window, partly for leverage and partially to keep her from driving away, Frederick tilted his head again and spoke. "Why?" he asked. "Because I am just visiting here?"

She wanted to laugh at the near correctness of his words. Wanted to cantor at his unknown self-depreciation. Abbie was no more sure of what Katrina had planned than she did before her trip to Fredericks Manor. What she did know was that it was not fair to love someone for something they weren't She could never allow herself to be involved with Frederick Crane; either he was a soul waiting to be walked in, or he was a body she would never have the right soul placed into. Either choice was not fair to the man stooping on the side of her car begging for a not date. "No," she finally answered with a squeeze of the wheel in her hands. "I just got out of a really intense relationship."

"It's just lunch, Miss Mills." He insisted. "It will give me a chance to get some answers out of you."

"And that's a selling point?" She fired back.

He nodded and came around to the passenger side of the car. Against her better judgement, Abbie unlocked the passenger door and faced forward as he slid into the seat. "It's whatever it needs to be."

"Suppose we could give it a try." Abbie offered turning the car over and easing out of the parking lot. "I mean, it is just lunch after all."

"DO or do not. There is no try." Frederick replied without facing her.

"Okay, now I see why your friends think you chase off al the ladies. I mean, Empire Strikes Backreally?"

"Frederick smiled. "I love that one. Although the original is still far superior to the –"

Abbie waved a hand and tried to hide her smile. "This is why women run away from you." She offered.

He pouted for a second and then a grin suddenly erupted across his face. "And yet, you are here."

XxXxXxX

Abbie ended up driving them to a small diner in Tarrytown that she and Crane had visited only once on their return visit from the psych hospital there. She pulled into the ancient diner and parked the car on the gravel along the grassy patch next to the highway. "This is different." Frederick offered as he surveyed the location from the passenger seat. "And distant."

"Good food." Abbie said.

"And clandestine." He pushed again

She plastered on her best grin and nodded. "Good food without any hidden agendas." In truth, she had been reluctant to parade him around a town that had gotten used to the sight of Crane in his pirate garb. It was bad enough she knew she would have to address what happened with her coworkers; to go any further with others around town would be too much at once. Crane had been a fixture in the library and historical society in his short time in 2014, how could you miss someone so smart and seemingly out of place?

Abbie made the first move and opened her car door. It reminded her of how many times she had to lead to show Crane how to do something in this time. Frederick stuck his long legs out of the door and stretched as if he had been on a cross country journey. "Right," he spoke pushing his glassed further onto his nose.

The diner really did have good soup, served by a woman whose hair seemed to defy gravity under the state mandated hair net. Frederick seemed fascinated with the tabletop jukebox and Abbie shook her head when he began digging for change.

"Ready to explain to me some of what is going on, then?" he said with a smirk curving his familiar features.

"We can trade information freely," she offered with a harder edge than she intended. "As long as you realize I need to know about more of the Crane Family."

"You have the journal." He said leaning back in the seat in surprise. The waitress came and dropped two sweating glasses of water in front of them. She turned on her heel wordlessly after slamming down two menus. "Friendly service." Frederick noted.

"It's a New York style diner, what did you expect?" she said without missing a beat.

"Miss Mills, there are things about this whole thing that I would appreciate knowing." Frederick said.

Abbie laid her hands on the table, opened palmed and shrugged. "What do you need to know?"

He seemed taken aback by her sudden willingness to answer his questions, as if on cue, the friendliest waitress in the world cam e and served coffees neither one of them ordered. Abbie held her hand up to protest, but Frederick shook his head and smiled. "What is going on?" he asked after the waitress left again.

"We are drinking unrequested coffee in possibly the worst diner in the tri state area." Abbie's words elicited small smile and a head tilt from the man across from her.

"Miss Mills—Abbie, can I call you Abbie?" he asked

Abbie wasn't sure how she felt about the request, but she shrugged anyway.

"Anyway ,Abbie." He tried and paused after the word. "Can you please tell me who everyone seems to think I am?"

She had earned her poker face from countless pool hustles that helped her get through college. Corbin could only help so much those first three years and she had been taught to pay pool at her father's knee from the time she could barely reach a pool stick. She chided herself for being surprised at his ability to figure things out. "What do you mean?"

Frederick say back again and offered the same smug smile that Crane would get when he had mastered some new technology. "On ast least four separate occasions in the last two days, I have been met on the street bu people asking me how I was and how was my extended trip." He went on. "And today, at your police station, your colleagues seemed to believe I was someone thery were familiar with."

"Oh really?" she said sipping her coffee with half hooded eyes.

"Yes, even the receptionist, who, I might add accosted me and apparently because it is Thursday I am supposed to purchase the first round?"

"Do tell," she smirked recalling the bet lost to Wendy over an old cartoon character and a skee ball tournament.

"Not to mention," he went on leaning forward as if afraid to speak the next words out loud, "I myself am experiencing enough de ja vu to fill a Hitchcock film."

She smiled and nodded "Never would have pegged you for a fan. I like his use of Doppelgangers and parallels .. When I was in college I took this class—"

"Lieutenant Mills," he warned. "I am quite familiar with the works of Hitchcock, but I think we were talking about something else."

Abbie mock pouted before nodding over her own menu. "Sure, yeah. What were we talking about again?"

St her words, Frederick slammed the menu on the table. The waitress came over and slammed two baskets of fries in front of each of them and rumbled off with a muttered curse under her breath. It was then that Abbie recalled that they had visited this diner but it was not a good experience. Crane had only been awake for three weeks when they had come to visit Jenny for help. He had been a right pompous ass and had given the waitress a hard time then.

The same damn waitress that was eyeing them from behind the large counter in front.

"You may not want to eat any of those. " she warned the man in front of her as he reached for the plate of fries.

"Why ever not?" he asked in the same exact tone that Crane had given when Abbie had warned him against Wasabi during his first taste of sushi. "I like chips." He took one between his two fingers and moved to take a bite. At Abbie's continued glare he relented. "Oh wait, tell me you are not one of those health food nuts?"

She shrugged then just as she had shrugged when Crane had taken a rather large dollop of the green death and shoved it into his maw. "You're funeral." She sighed not sure how to proceed.

He placed the offending object back into the basket in front of him and dusted his hands with great flourish. "Miss Mills." He began again. "I have a series of questions."

"I am sure you do, but do me a favor?" she asked leaning closer into his space. "Stick to the coffee here. The last time we—I was here my…friend wasn't very nice."

"Oh?" he asked raising one eyebrow. "How so?"

Abbie shook her head and was going to offer a simple explanation when Florence, the waitress showed again with their bill. "That was fast." Frederick noted.

Abbie kicked him under the chair to keep him quiet while offering Florence a feigned visage of mock sincerity. It must not have been her most convincing of smiles because Florence finally spoke her mind. "I think it is a rude shame." She began, arms folded across her savagely large frame. "That you people come back in here after the mess you made last time."

"I am so sorry Ms. Florence." Abbie said.

The large woman sniffed and ticked her head toward the counter. "Petie got fired after all of that. He's been the cook here for ten years." She huffed.

Ah yes, Abbie recalled now. Petie had not been so salacious about his short orders being critiqued. Abbie recalled he had come from the kitchen wielding an ancient spatula. "We'll be gong now." Abbie offered rising with a nod toward her companion.

"But I still haven't eaten." Frederick uttered with a petulance that would put a five year old denied McDonald's to shame.

"We'll hit a drive thru." Abbie assured him as she tossed a twenty on the table and slid out of the booth. Frederick followed in step behind her and had the decency to wait until they were in the car again before the onslaught of questions. "Well, that was pleasant." He said. "And I am still hungry. Miss Mills, I am certain that there are other establishments available for luncheon?"

Abbie pulled the car out of the gravel lot and tried to take a mental note of where they had not eaten together. The only places were fancier restaurants that would still house people from town that Crane had been familiar with. Like people from the Historical society and the reenactors he had become too friendly with over that year.

An idea lit across her face and changed the slope of her cheeks. He had been staring at her since they left the diner and noticed the change. "You have thought of a place?" he asked.

Abbie shook her head then nodded. "No and yes." She affirmed. His look of confusion broadened her smile and reminded her of the past. "I thought we could grab some take out and go back to the Archives. You have a lot of questions and I think that's a safe place to have this conversation

Frederick turned to look out of the front window and nodded. "Thank you." He said. "Because Froence, the food purveyor back there had referred to both of us having been there before. I need to know, Miss Mills. What is happening?"

"Twenty minutes." She sighed. "You waited this long and came across an ocean for the truth. Twenty minutes and some hot soup isn't going to be that much more."

Frederick said nothing and Abbie took his silence as agreement.

XxXxXxXxXxX

By the time the entered the old room laden with bags that Abbie had retrieved from the restaurant that had been Crane's favorite dive, it was late afternoon. She had checked in with the station who were more than happy to cover the remained of her shift in the name of her recent reunion. Irving had even left a message on her phone to take the next day off and give Crane his best.

They all had no idea.

He made himself comfortable in only that way that Crane had been able to; fussily arranging napkins and plates and large cups of soup. Abbie pulled up the other chair and opened her cheeseburger and salad. She had gotten Frederick Crane's favorite and lied to herself about it not being a trick.

He sat across from her stirring the chili with his plastic spoon as if debating whether or not to eat it. She took the cup from him and arranged the meal the way Crane had liked it; Chili over fries, cheese and sour cream on top of the chili and onions enough to cover the whole damn thing. She slid it back across the table and watched the tall man endeavor to figure out where to start.

"You had some questions?" she asked between forkfuls of her side salad. She suddenly had a drive to tell him the truth; to tell him everything and get it off of her chest. He would believe her; she knew he would because he had seen the evidence himself.

He finally stabbed his fork into the large meal and ate. The look on his face was just like the first time that Jenny had introduced Crane to Chili Cheese Fries. "MMMMM That is remarkable." He hummed.

She smiled and allowed the memories to float through her for the moment. "Yeah, I thought you would like it."

"I had doubts." He agreed with another ferocious bite. "Quite honestly I have never had anything quite like it."

Watching him then Abbie realized that she had missed this; eating together and watching him eat. Crane had a voracious appetite and a sweet tooth that would have kept Willie Wonka in the black. But, most of all she missed watching him eat. He could finish off his plate then eye hers too. Often, she shoved her leftovers at him and would wave off his feigned gentlemanly reluctance.

Here, if the wicked witch of the west was to be believed, in front of her was the embodiment of Ichabod Crane, made anew by occult interference from his wife. She watched him dig through the chili and cheese to the fries at the bottom to ensure proper coating of all the potato wedges.

He had passed whatever rudimentary test she had laid out with the Chili Cheese Fries. Although, in fairness, who wouldn't find them the pinnacle of American culinary experiences? His reaction to them was more than similar to Crane's reaction

He even ate the damn thing the same way.

"Miss Mills," he said breaking her reverie. "Why do you suppose that woman at the diner seemed to recall me—us?" he asked in such a simple way but Abbie could tell he had been considering the most diplomatic way of broaching the subject that she had been avoiding all afternoon. Three days into an acquaintance and he already knew to handle her so she wouldn't run.

"It's not a simple story. Nor is it short and easy to be believed. Once I tell you this," she said pushing her empty plate away from her. "You will want to take me to Tarrytown Psych."

"I doubt that." He insisted still working his way through Mount Cholesterol. "While I cannot say I have had your acquaintance for long, I can attest to your being the very picture of sanity. At least from what I have seen."

"Give it ten minutes." Abbie smiled. "You'll have the men in white coats here faster than you can say "Bob's yer Uncle." She smiled at her horrible British accent. He glared at her as if she had grown a second head. "Right, I will never do that one again.

"Thank god," she smiled. "I would have called the psych ward based on that impersonation alone."

"You wanna hear this story or not?" she asked in mock offense.

"As long as it is not with that dreadful accent. Proceed."