There was something very off putting about medical facilities.

Perhaps, it was the cleaning products that made everything seem all the more sterile, or maybe it was the general atmosphere which resulted in everything being increasingly uncomfortable. One color dominated the hallways and rooms while the cold feel of metal seemed to be under one's hands at all times. It was impersonal; neutral to all feelings; detached. Everything was crisp and fresh, yet eerie as the solace of the room made the sounds coming through the door more hushed and spooky.

Whatever it was, he was more than ready to be finished with it and back in the warmth of his home. Perhaps, cozied up next to the fire with a nice novel.

Katrina, on the other hand, was sitting on the edge of the bed, patiently reading the various signs on the walls with all the ease of a woman in complete comfort. Just when had she become more comfortable in modern settings than he?

"Will our baby wear such outfits as that one there?"

More fully turning toward her, he followed her curious gaze to the rather large picture on the far wall of the room. It featured a young girl, likely around a year of age, wearing a pair of overalls with a bright, toothy grin; her blonde ringlets hanging around her ears.

"Absolutely not," he spat while examining the picture with mild dissatisfaction. "For one thing, she's certainly not going to have blonde hair."

"My grandmother had blonde hair," she commented with a grin.

Casting her a wary look, he crossed his arms, challenging her to dispute him on this. "That's hardly cause to believe our child will bear the same."

Katrina shrugged her shoulders as her legs began swinging back and forth. She reminded him of a young girl, carefree and weightless.

"I wonder about such things." Her green eyes danced over the walls. "The presentation of a new baby was once quite the talk about town."

There it was.

This timeline left them with a handful of friends and next to no acquaintances. Who would they present their child to upon her birth?

"Our baby will have plenty of people to dote over her," he replied as he eased up beside her.

Katrina laughed as he took her hand, her eyes full of amusement.

"I didn't mean it in a disappointing manner. I was simply curious over what mothers dressed their daughters in these days." She laid her free hand to his cheek, the smile she presented him with as bright as the evening stars. "You needn't worry so much, my love."

For his part, he fidgeted in displeasure.

"I'm not worrying," he protested, even as her eyes narrowed in doubt. "I'm not. I'm simply voicing an opinion based upon what you said."

Katrina shook her head, her hand dropping to his chest to begin twisting the strings of his shirt between her fingers.

"And what opinion do you have about our daughter's state of dress?"

"I believe she'll be the most envied young lady in all of Sleepy Hollow."

"Is that so?" she asked with a chuckle before she met his eyes again. "You know, she'll be different from us."

A knot formed in his throat.

"Yes," he whispered, that fact settling in his mind. "I know."

Comfortable silence fell between them as he considered just what she meant. A child born in the modern era would obviously have more modern knowledge than not. Their daughter would have an easier concept of the things he and Katrina daily struggled to understand. That fact both comforted and pained him.

The door opening tore him from his thoughts as Dr. Steven's entered.

"Sorry about that," she said as she closed the door behind her. "Now, where were we?"

He straightened himself and nodded to the machine pulled up beside the bed. "You were about to show us our baby."

"Of course." She moved to the machine and began typing away. "Mrs. Crane, why don't you lie back and we'll see about that little one."

As Katrina did as asked, he took up a stance beside the bed.

"Alright then, let's see." The doctor brought out the same gel she'd used before and began spreading it over Katrina's belly with the device.

More knowledgeable about what to look for this time, he held Katrina's hand as the monitor flickered on the opposite side of the bed.

"So, we're still agreed upon learning the sex, correct?"

Katrina smiled as she looked up at him. "Yes, we're very excited to know."

Excited to have it confirmed more than anything else. While he had complete faith in Katrina's assertions, it was still going to be wonderful to have someone else say it aloud.

"Well, then, let me be the first to say , congratulations, Crane family, you're having a little girl."

"It's-" He stared at the screen, wonder at the sight of the small creature before him filling his heart. "You're sure?"

"As sure as I can be at this point." The doctor said with a chuckle. "There's still room for surprise, but I'd place money on it."

Since that moment, he'd been lit up inside with the idea of it.

A little girl.

Yes, Katrina had already voiced her opinion and he'd been satisfied with her theory, but to have actual proof, an actual photograph, was more than enough to have him over the moon and soaring amongst the stars.

"Oh, Ichabod, this is beautiful," Katrina whispered as she lifted the small dress from the bag. "But, my love, it's too much."

Hearing nothing of it, he ran a hand down her arm. "What did we agree upon?"

"I don't recall agreeing on anything so much as you expressing a wish to be the only one concerned over our finances." She smoothed the dress over her lap. "I can't believe how soft the material is."

Excited once again, he took her by the hand and tugged her from the bench.

"That's nothing," he said as he pulled her over to a particular rack of items. "Feel this blanket."

As she did, he observed her eyes widen as she pulled the material close to her chest.

"How do you know about all these things?" She glanced around the store. "Strollers and basinets seem a bit out of your area of expertise and, yet, you've astounded me with your knowledge."

He shrugged his shoulders as he refolded a blanket that had been carelessly tossed onto the rack. The audacity of some people.

"My lunch break is rather long," he mumbled, embarrassed for himself and wishing very much to not speak of the matter.

"And you spend your free time here?"

Rolling his eyes, he set the blanket down. "I simply find myself drawn to these things. I want to know how it all works before she arrives. The last thing we want to do is buy a cheap stroller and have it collapse in on itself with our baby inside it."

Yes, he was aware that he might have been spending too much time exploring the small shop, but he couldn't help himself. A particular crib in the window had caught his eyes one day when he'd been on his way to work and he'd ended up being a half hour late to the bookstore because of it. The wooden frame had looked like an antique and he'd been proven right upon asking the sales associate about it.

After that, he'd found himself wandering around the small shop, browsing through the different sections and even learning from a few expectant mothers that there were books he should be reading.

So, he'd found them at the bookstore and, while he was free from the counter, he'd been thumbing through them and learning all that was to be expected of him as a father.

The plethora of information on babies and what came with them was unlike anything he would have expected. Book after book presented itself and he found himself memorizing more and more of their contents to share with Katrina when the time came.

However, that was then, and, at this moment, he found himself wishing he would have slipped the knowledge in more subtly as to not appear so foolish.

Finally lifting his gaze, he found her staring at him, her lips twitching as though she were trying to prevent laughter.

"There's nothing wrong with being well informed," he muttered as he ran a hand over the blankets. "I enjoy having all the facts."

Her answering touch was tender and as she stroked her fingers along his back, he turned to find her smiling up at him.

"The lady at the register seems to think I'm a blessed woman." She tangled her fingers in the loop of his trousers. "And I find that I'm inclined to agree with her."

Pleased to hear so, he slipped his arms around her waist. "Are you?"

"Mhm." She leaned up to brush her lips against his. "How I love you, Ichabod Crane."

Unable to help himself, he reached behind her and picked up an item to bring between them.

"Someone else is going to feel the same."

When her eyes fell to the cloth in his hand, she chuckled.

"Daddy's Princess." Her gave flickered up to him as she smiled. "What is this?"

"A bib," he answered matter of factly before turning it around. "She'll wear it while she eats."

"Will she?" Katrina shook her head, amusement lacing her features. "We're not going to spoil her, Ichabod."

"Of course not," he replied, even as he avoided her gaze. "But she must have at least one of these and I say this is the perfect one."

"Whatever you say, daddy."

Delighted at the sound of being referred to as such, he took her hand and began leading her toward the door.

"Is it odd that I prefer the more modern term for father than the previous one?"

Katrina grinned as she ran her fingers over a shelf full of photo frames. "Not at all. I think it sounds more innocent; more... connected and familial."

"And you?" He opened the door and held it for her. "What will you like to be called?"

As she squinted up the street in the bright morning light, she shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't really matter. I suppose it's best to allow her the choice as she grows, but I imagine she'll call us what other children of this century call their parents."

His mind went wild with the possibilities.

Just the very idea of a child looking up at them, her big eyes full of innocence and love, and calling them her own was so heartwarming. It was a reality in the making.

Threading his fingers through Katrina's, he lifted their hands to his lips where he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"I'm already helplessly devoted to her every whim."

Katrina laughed, the sweet sound carrying between them as they moved up the sidewalk.

"Oh, my love," she said, her voice light and carefree. "You're going to be no help at all when it comes to discipline, are you?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied with a shrug. "I shall be her willing servant and obedient comrade in arms."

Katrina glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow. "You'll follow a child's orders, but not mine?"

Not having considered such things, he blanched. "Oh, well... I suppose I shall spend the rest of my days torn between my loves, helplessly caught in the mix of attempting to please both of you at once."

"Some soldier you are," she said with a roll of her eyes before coming to a halt and pointing ahead. "Is this it?"

"Is what it?" he asked, his eyes tearing from her face to see the bookstore before them. "Oh, yes, but-"

"Well, let's go in," she said, already reaching for the handle. "I'd like to meet this woman you're all the time going on and on about so much."

Truth be told, he simply didn't want to get caught up in Mrs. O'Conner's endless questioning. If she and Katrina began talking, he feared he may never escape the store.

As she pulled him behind her, he groaned. "My love, perhaps, another time would be better."

"We don't have anything else to do," she said, her eyes already absorbing the room.

Running his hand down her spine, he rested it along the lower part of her back and leaned close to her ear. "I could think of a few things we could do."

Her breathing faltered, but she didn't meet his gaze. "I would think you'd have had your fill by now."

Scoffing at the very idea, he brushed a kiss to the skin below her ear. "Never."

"Oh, Ichabod, you've finally brought that wife of yours."

The timing of that woman.

With the most courteous smile he could conjure, he turned to his approaching employer.

"Mrs. O'Conner," he greeted with a nod. "I'd like to introduce you to Katrina."

For her part, Katrina stepped forward of her own volition and took Mrs. O'Conner's hand. "It's so wonderful to finally make your acquaintance. Ichabod speaks so highly of you."

The woman raised an eyebrow and peeked around at him, doubt lacing her wizened eyes.

"I imagine, he does." She, then, returned her attention to Katrina with renewed enthusiasm. "My dear, you are positively lovely."

Katrina laughed as he moved up behind her, pride for his love swelling in his chest as he placed a hand against her back.

"I told you she was."

Mrs. O'Conner nodded, her agreeable expression an extra contributor to his words. "Yes, he did. The man never quiets about you."

What felt like butterflies welled in his belly when Katrina smiled up at him. "Is that so?"

Not caring to acknowledge how deeply she affected him, he rolled his eyes and answered, "It's more so about the baby than anything else."

"Oh, hush, you," Mrs. O'Conner said as she swiped at his arm. "Don't let him fool you, dear. He's a hopeless romantic with his heart well in your hands."

Katrina's smile was not to be contained as she laid a hand over her belly.

"So, how did that appointment go?" Mrs. O'Conner placed her hands on her hips. "Is it a little sir or madam?"

He nodded to Katrina, who positively beamed as she said, "It's a girl."

"Oh," Mrs. O'Conner squealed. "How delightful."

Digging in his coat pocket, he produced the small picture the doctor had given him and handed it to Mrs. O'Conner.

"Well, look at that." Her lips smacked as she tapped him on his chest. "You're going to have your hands full soon. Little girls are not to be trifled with, especially in this day and age. They do everything the boys do and then some."

"Th-they do?" he asked, suddenly fearing the worst. "What does that entail exactly?"

She patted his arm. "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, dear."

With that, she took Katrina by the arm and began leading her toward the back of the store.

"Don't worry after us, Ichabod," she called over her shoulder as Katrina glanced back at him, an excited smile plastered to her face. "You don't mind watching the front do you?"

Not even bothering to wait for his answer, she and Katrina disappeared around a corner.

"Well, she can't say I didn't warn her."

"Oh, Ichabod, she's just delightful," Katrina said as she bounced on the sofa. "I don't know what you were talking about when you said she was nosey. She's just curious about life is all."

For the past two hours, he'd minded the customers while Katrina and Mrs. O'Conner talked out of his sight, leaving him to wonder just how much of the conversation was centered on him.

Every so often, he'd heard Mrs. O'Conner's boisterous laughter, which had done nothing to dull his curiosity.

Now, finally returned home, Katrina was still going on about the elderly woman.

"She's not able to get out much with how bad her arthritis is and she only wants to know about other's lives. One could hardly blame her."

Removing his boots and placing them by the door, he tiredly made his way over to her and set their bags down.

"Is that not what being nosey is?" He collapsed to the sofa beside her. "When one is overly interested in another's business?"

Katrina regarded him with a withering glare. "Don't be so critical of her. She's done a great deal for our family with her generosity. You should be grateful."

Surprised by her gumption, he chuckled.

"I adore the woman, my love." He saddled up next to her and whispered in her ear. "I was only complaining for attention."

She pulled back to look at him, her face a picture of shock. "What?"

"You heard me," he replied as he stroked his fingers along her belly. "I want all your sympathy and attention forever fixed upon me."

"Ichabod," she exclaimed, her voice higher. "You-"

Mouth on hers, he lifted his hand and slipped it into her hair to hold her close as he explored the inner treasures between her lips.

She tasted of pickles from the sandwich she'd had for lunch and he found himself wanting to peel the taste from her tongue.

When she succumbed to his advances, her hands working along his form, he pressed further into her, effectively guiding her back on the sofa to where he was leaning over her.

Oh, how he loved kissing her. The way she was quick to give into his will, sneakily luring him into a false sense of comfort, only to pounce when he least expected it, taking him by surprise and seizing control for herself.

His wife was a sure wonder, that was for certain.

Teasingly dragging his lips off hers, he lifted himself up while smiling down at her flushed form, the pink tint of her cheeks delighting him.

As she regained her bearings, her chest rising and falling in time with his, she whispered, "I find myself lost for what we were previously discussing."

"You were going to say something about my duplicitous nature?"

Her eyebrow arched as she ran her fingers down his chest. "No... I don't think so."

"Oh?" he asked, curious to hear this through. "If I'm mistaken, what was occurring, then?"

"You were informing me of how much you adore my attention and how..." She tickled her fingers along his abdomen. "Much you want to continue keeping my thoughts focused upon you."

"Mmm." He sagged against her, placing his full weight over her. "And what methods do you think would best serve me in my quest to do such a thing?"

A grin flashed over her face as she began tugging his shirt up his sides. "I believe you were on the right track moments ago."

"Ah." He shook his head and brushed his lips to her cheek. "Is that so?"

"Very much so," she whispered as she scratched along his back. "Do continue, my love."

As he began trailing light kisses up her jaw, he whispered, "Nothing could stop me."

Next up: Late night cravings. Self-consciousness. Perhaps a massage or two.