A/N I wrote another part. I hope you like it. It's not much, but it wouldn't leave my brain. This is the last chapter.

A few days later there had been no sign of Henry, but there had also been no significant demonic activities to speak of, either. The Cranes were sharing the cabin and trying to focus on getting Katrina fully acclimated to the 21st century. And they were also doing a pretty good job at pretending their fights had never happened.

"Katrina, my love, what did you mean the other day about something in purgatory?" Ichabod asked, playing with one of his wife's curls. They were lying in bed, Katrina's head on Ichabod's chest.

Katrina sighed, "You had to bring that up." She turned her head so she could look at him, "I must admit that some of Abraham's original jabs stung slightly. About Abigail, I mean."

"What?" That was not where Ichabod expected his inquiry to lead.

Katrina half shrugged. "She was there for you when I couldn't be. It upset me, especially when you hugged her in purgatory. That was when I really realized it. It seemed only natural that you might find comfort some other way. You did think I was dead in the beginning."

"Katrina, I would never—"

"I know," she cut him off. "You and Abbie share a bond as Witnesses that I don't understand, but that does not mean it has to interfere with our marriage." Katrina kissed him deeply. "Unless you let it interfere," she added, sitting up wither her back against the headboard, which forced Ichabod to do the same. Neither was ready to go to sleep, anyway.

"I've learned to never let anything interfere with our marriage, my love, and I'm afraid I learned it the hard way." Ichabod paused thoughtfully, "I was quite surprised by the way marriage has disintegrated over the years. Do you know how many marriages end in divorce? It's rather discouraging when you think about the future of love."

"Feeling philosophical, love?" Katrina laughed, "I think that people stop looking for real love and settle for what they think is all they can get. And that's sad, but there is nothing we can do about it besides providing an example." Ichabod smiled an answering smile, but Katrina could tell something was bothering him. "What's wrong?"

"My apologizes. I was just thinking of Miss Caroline," Ichabod wrapped his arm around Katrina and pulled her close.

"Who?"

"The one the Weeping—I mean—Mary killed."

"Oh. Right."

Ichabod smiled regretfully, "What made me think of her was that she had the notion that Miss Mills was my wife."

"What gave her that idea?" Katrina sat up straighter, very interested in the turn the conversation was taking.

"She—" Ichabod cleared his throat, "She informed me of her feelings for me and Miss Mills walked in as I was explaining that I was happily married."

"That must have been uncomfortable," Katrina chuckled at the face Ichabod was making at the memory. "I wish I could have seen it."

"I'm sure you would have much preferred to be there when the good Miss Mills informed me that I should do an infernal thing called 'yoga' for your sake because 'a woman likes her man to have shapely buns' or something to that effect."

Katrina laughed much louder at that one and said, "She's not wrong, Ichabod." She smiled devilishly at her husband, causing him to kiss her smirking mouth.