Notes:Hey All! Thank you so much for all of the love, and support, reading, kudos, pms, reviews. I appreciate them all, even if I can't answer some of the questions. I can't tell you how it ends, lol. I absolutely appreciate your honest reviews and always, always, always welcome them. It's been hard for me to find time to write and edit and because of that I think what's going on in Abbie's life in this story has been happening for like ages. I think maybe the last month or two of her life has been stretched out over tons of chapters and like a year? Idk. So this is just who she is right now. I do think it was demonstrated in season one that Abbie will lie, and actually hold a lie if she's afraid or thinks it's the right thing to do. Had the sandman not threatened to send her into a permanent sleep she might still be like, what demon, I didn't see any demon, lol. She's a survivor. I love that about her, and I absolutely get you guys being protective over her. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Everybody comes back in the next chapter to kind of wrap of this part of the story, and kick off the next leg of it! :-)! Please forgive any errors, I have to read this one again.

It's confusing, cause' I'm the one that left

It was preemptive, I don't know who I am

Are we all searching for something we don't understand

Someone else to see through our battle plans -Nothing Where Something Used To Be, Vanessa Carlton

"I cannot be-LIEVE that FUCKING DICKHEAD had the nerve to tell me about another female wanting to be in my shoes." Abbie sat in the driver's seat talking to herself. As if telling herself the things Ichabod has said out loud would somehow help them to sink in. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, lines of fury creased between her brows as she tried to wrap her mind around everything that had just transpired.

"Oh my God," she muttered, nearly breaking her turn signal off when she activated it. Her toes mashed into the brake pedal in observance of the red light in front of her.

"You up there," She wearily began, "we need to have a talk." She petitioned as she sunk back into the driver's seat. "Because you know more than anyone how much I love that jerk, but I absolutely re-fuse, I refuse!" She repeated in case heaven didn't hear her the first time, eyes briefly slipping closed in anger as if she didn't have a traffic light she was supposed to be paying attention to. Her prayers went silent. Given the circumstances, I have been doing everything I can to create a normal, healthy, and happy life for the boys and everyone involved. I'm already doing everything I know how to do, and it doesn't seem to be enough. She shrugged, and shook her head. It doesn't seem to be working, so "I need guidance."

Please guide me into understanding how he was the one who was offended like he'd just had to listen to details about how I woke up on a couch curled up with somebody else.

"Can you help me to understand that one, because it just—it isn't resonating with me. But I was the one in need of a lecture about conduct when we initially separated. Okay. Yeah." Abbie complained through an ironic tone.

"But it isn't even about the whole couch debacle because I saw it for what it was, and I let it go…and then he had the nerve to come out of his mouth with all that garbage. Are you kidding me?" She asked shaking her head.

"And I am officially rescinding my prayers from yesterday. I know I asked for him to come home but I am telling you now if his lanky, colonial ponytail wearing behind comes anywhere near my doorstep today it's going to be a misunderstanding of epic proportions. I don't want that, you don't want that, and even though Kong Balls Ichabod seems to believe he's hard body right now for whatever reasons," She said with a wave of her hand, "I can assure you that he don't want it either! So…I know you got a lot going on, and a lot on your plate, but I need you. I need for you to intervene right now. I need for you to take full and complete control of this situation. And I need for you to get him, and sit him down somewhere, and tell him something, BEFORE YOU HAVE TO TELL HIM TO HIS FACE!"

A few minutes later Abbie pulled up to the grocery store. She sat in the car staring out across the sparsely filled parking lot, her elbow rested against the window sill while her palm cupped her chin.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, sitting back and rubbing her belly. She looked down. "I have to do better." She sighed, thinking about all the stress she'd been under. "All of this unrest isn't good for you, and it isn't fair to you…so we're going to go get some food, some more melon which I suddenly can't stop eating. Is that you? " She smiled, talking to her baby as if it could hear and understand every word. "Then we're going to go home, have a bath, and after that we're going to just chill out and do absolutely nothing but lay around and think good thoughts. Just us—until your brothers get home at least, but no more stress."

Abbie spent the next few minutes giving the breathing exercises she'd been practicing a go. They didn't help right away but after five minutes of cleansing breaths a good portion of her anger had diminished. Unfortunately for her, the sadness that replaced it seemed to be even stronger, but somehow Abbie found it a little easier to manage. The bright sun lighting up the see through sky helped to remind her of everything she had to be grateful for. Even the simple things, like the tennis shoe's she'd worn to Sharia's. She twisted around and looked into the backseat, reaching her hand back and stretching out her fingertips until she grasped the bag she'd taken to the salon and pulled it up front.

The supermarket was a ghost-town, a marked difference from the evenings and weekends she usually frequented it. If it were any other day she would have appreciated it all, how quiet and peaceful it was in its depopulated state, how perfectly placed and untouched everything was. But today, wind breezed through her braids as she swept through the wide spaced aisles, unseeing as one foot mindlessly plunked in front of the other. The wheels on her shopping cart squeaked and squealed from the pace, but the noise may as well have been coming from the other side of the moon. What she could hear, all too clearly, was the voice that a thousand deep breaths couldn't push out, the voice she'd just left miles down the highway, the one she knew she'd always hear…even if it was coming from the other side of the moon.

On the way to the cold-cuts, she couldn't stop herself from wondering how she ended up here, not here as in geographically, walking through the middle of the grocery store, but here as in starting the day hoping to ask Ichabod to come home to now loosely contemplating changing the locks just in case he did.

An inner voice came forward, the annoying one that seemed to mean well, but always told her the things she didn't want to hear.

Stop thinking about him.

It's easier said than done

Bitch. Did you not hear him tell you to get fucked because there's a gang of women that want to be with him? . .

Abbie's stomach tensed, and her heart sank all over again. She knew it wasn't exactly what he'd said, but each time his words replayed, they sounded a little worse and hurt a little bit more. On top of that she couldn't decide whether to be angry with him for the things he'd said, or herself for not having the good sense to see it coming. In the past it would have been a no brainer, she'd blame herself because she would have kept herself from needing or expecting anything from anyone. She was so far beyond that point with Ichabod, she couldn't even remember crossing it. She tossed a package of lunchmeat into her cart and picked up her step, eager to finish up her shopping and get home.

Ichabod could always tell when she was stressed, even early on. A rueful grin crested her lips as she thought back to how he'd challenge her to a game of chess to help take her mind off of things. Now he was the thing. She turned over a few melons checking their color, tapping them and listening for the telltale ring that let her know they were ripe.

This is why there are rules. Relationships 101 Einstein. She inwardly scolded. Rule number one, don't fall in love with your best friend. Rule number two, don't let the best friend you're not supposed to be in love with, but are anyway kiss you and make love to you like you're the only woman he's ever touched. Rule number three...Who am I kidding, I'd break all of the rules again. She somberly realized. She only wished that they came with some kind of a side manual for after they'd been broken. Like instructions on how to keep so much of herself from belonging to him. Or how to find a piece of herself that didn't have his fingerprints all over it.

"Hey I thought that was you! Abbie." Abbie looked up half confused, eyes darting in the direction of the voice that broke her from her thoughts.

"Hey," She said, dragging it out until her brain supplied her with a name to match the face. "Talum." She casually finished, hoping he wouldn't notice. He abandoned the cucumbers he'd been looking at and wheeled his cart over to hers.

"Man, that's high level right there, you don't even remember a brotha huh," He chuckled, while Abbie tried to hide her embarrassment behind a grin.

"I do too."

"You were like hey," He said mimicking her tone which sounded both happy and worried. "Then five seconds went by and you were like Talum." He laughed. He couldn't help but think how ironic it was that he made it a point to shop midday in an effort to avoid seeing people he couldn't call by name without a clipboard in his hand, and yet here he was the one forgotten. Abbie pursed her lips not knowing what to say.

"So how've you been?" She asked, desperate to move on.

"I've been good, you know. Things are going well career wise and with my folks and whatnot so I can't complain. What about you? How've you been?"

"I'm doing good." She said, and he immediately remembered she wasn't one who jumped to share things about herself.

"Yeah? How's your sister doing, um Ja...?"

"You mean your snitch, Jenny," Abbie supplied, "she's good."

His head fell back with silent laughter.

"Do you know how many drinks she made me buy for all that info? Your sister can drink, and not the cheap stuff."

"What?!" Abbie exclaimed unable to hide her amusement. "She sold my information to you? And didn't even share the drinks with me? Oh my God." Abbie shook her head, as they shared a laugh at her sister's antics.

"So how are things on the force?" He asked, as the laughter waned.

"Great." She replied, content to leave it at that.

"Great." He smirked shaking his head. "Great like…"

"Like…well I'm working predominantly on cold cases right now which I thought would be, you know kind of boring, but surprisingly it's not, it's different, really interesting." She nodded.

"Well that's good, because we both know you don't do boring."

"To the contrary, I should clear that up." She corrected him. "I am the self-appointed queen of boring. Do you see my shopping cart, this is the epitome of banality."

"What?" He said with a tsk of his tongue, "Nah," he added looking down into her cart. "Look at all this fancy, exotic stuff you got in here. You got the kosher bologna, not just the regular. Is that a real life box of Wheaties, you're about to solve all the cold cases, and catch all the criminals after a bowl of those, and what is this Doe-vè?" He joked pulling her bars of soap from her cart.

"Get away from me Talum," She grinned snatching her bars of Dove from him, and putting them back in her cart. "Don't you have a heart surgery to botch, I mean perform, or something."

"Oh, wow. It's like that?" He grinned, remembering now things he too had forgotten. Seeing her was like hearing an old new song. One he loved hearing and grew excited about every time it came on the radio, only he never had the chance to learn the words to it or even the name. It stayed fresh and unplayed, and every time he heard it he was reminded of how much he enjoyed it. A familiar fondness brightened his eyes, and Abbie looked away sensing a shift in the air. The lull of quiet coupled with the unmistakable attraction she saw in his eyes let her know they'd left behind the wow I'm surprised to see you phase of their conversation. She already felt uncomfortable by his next words and she hadn't even heard them yet. She needed to say something before he did.

"So," She began, starting to tell him she was married.

"—So, you never called." He cut in, "Well, actually you did call to say that you couldn't—," Abbie held her hand up beside her face.

"Wow, and that's a ring—two rings." He quickly corrected himself. "Okay, so that explains some things." He commented, still looking surprised. Abbie donned a closed lipped smile as he awkwardly offered congratulations.

"Well congrats Abbie, that's, wow."

"Thank you." Abbie nodded, with a small smile, the sort that fades as soon as it forms. "I never got the chance to truly thank you for all of the flowers. They were beautiful, and it was very thoughtful, so, thank you."

"You're welcome."

Abbie eased her elbows off of her cart and grabbed the handle. "Well, it was good seeing you."

She'd made it to the edge of the produce section when she heard him call her name.

"Abbie."

She turned her head around to find him striding toward her, maneuvering his way around a few shoppers focused on lettuce and spinach selections. He licked his lips and inhaled a shaky breath, looking every bit as hesitant as someone diving into waters they hadn't tested the temperature of.

"So uh…how's married life treating you?"

Abbie stared up at him straight-faced, before offering a small nod. "Good afternoon Dr. Bradford."

Talum smiled, and stroked his chin feeling foolish for even trying it, but nevertheless his estimation of her swelled. "Good afternoon Ab

"—Mrs. Crane." She called back over her shoulder.

He sighed, "Forgive me, Mrs. Crane."

Abbie travelled the main aisle toward the checkout when her eyes softened on a romper she spotted in the baby/toddler section. She didn't remember moving toward it, but in a flash she was standing in front of the pale yellow outfit admiring the neatly stitched animals etched across it. Her fingers stilled a few inches from the fabric, her quiet hopeful smile draining as she remembered the other rules she'd set for herself.

No supplies for the baby until the end of the twelfth week.

She was getting tired of these rules. All of these guidelines in place to minimize the risk of pain. When she really thought about them she realized they never actually worked, pain always had a way of manifesting. Was she really supposed to shutter herself off from the love she felt for her baby because she was afraid of losing it? It was already too late. She constantly caught herself talking to her baby, singing to it, realizing her hopes and dreams for it. Already she loved it more than she could put into words.

But still, rules were rules. She quietly looked around as if she were being watched. Like someone was hiding behind the clothing racks judging her for breaking a promise she'd made only to herself.

Just this once, she told herself, happily sliding the garment from the rack. She made herself the same promise as she filled her basket with five or six other outfits her baby just had to have.

Abbie leaned over the tub and released the drain, cutting her bath short in order to get some food into her stomach. It wasn't that she necessarily felt hungry more often, only she couldn't ignore her hunger when she did feel it. Now when she needed to eat, she need to eat, immediately, putting it off wasn't an option. Not only that but she needed to eat exactly what she wanted to eat, and lately that had consisted of melon, melon, and more melon. In the room, she carefully pulled one of Ichabod's undershirts over her bun, easing into it and watching it fall nearly to her knees.

Downstairs, she'd just finished devouring a fried bologna sandwich and a plate of melon when she heard a car in the driveway. She leaned back from the table knowing instantly who it was.

"You've gotta be kidding me." She protested, eyes looking up to the ceiling as if God was sitting in the molding. "Didn't we talk about this?"

She sat there a moment, thumbing through her magazine figuring maybe Ichabod would get the hint and go away. Of course he didn't, the knocking only increased. Unable to keep her focus on the pages in front of her Abbie moved over to the kitchen sink, tuning him out while taking a scrub brush to the melons she had soaking in vinegar and water.

Ichabod gave up on the garage door, and walked around to the front but quickly realized she'd latched that as well. After a few minutes of knocking unsuccessfully, he started calling her name.

"Abbie. I know well that you hear me." She heard him call through the cracked door. "Do you wish for me to unhinge this entry way?" He stiffly asked. "Is that what you would like?"

"No!" She shouted, having grown as tired of hearing him knock as he was of knocking. She abandoned her melons and marched through the foyer, quickly unlatching the chain and yanking the door open.

"I want you to GO AWAY!" She shouted, staring him down. Ichabod couldn't recall seeing her so angry with him. Her eyes were perpetrating remorseless homicide, and putting forth every indication that it would become actual homicide if he attempted to cross the threshold.

She was fuming. Her fists were clenched at her side, rising and falling with the heave of her chest. She looked as though she meant every word she'd said, and at that moment he began to seriously consider whether or not she did. Heartbroken, he suddenly felt like a nuisance. He wondered if she meant it, that she wished him to leave. As soon as the question passed through his mind, her face shifted and for a brief moment the anger she'd constructed to cover her pain faltered. She was hiding. The same as she had done every other time she was hurt. All of the instances in which she'd barricaded herself in the restroom to contend with her injuries alone bounced through his mind.

"I do not believe that." He softly stated, needing to be right more than he could admit.

"Really?!" She asked, head dipping forward as sarcasm raised her tone. "Well I hope this helps?" She stepped back and slammed the door in his face. Ichabod stepped forward, leaning his frame against the door as he heard the lock click.

"Abbie." He called, with a quick knock. "Abbie." He repeated more urgently. The day had gone mad. Already he'd driven halfway around the city in search of her. When he first arrived home, she had yet to return, but his nerves wouldn't allow him to sit and wait. He'd searched the precinct, the archives, the ballpark where they used to sit and talk after a game, and even drove by Irving's in search of her vehicle. When all of the searches turned up fruitless, he returned.

He reached into his pocket to grab his keys again but his fingers fumbled over them, and they clinked against the porch. He cursed the day as he bent to retrieve them.

"Hey neighbor! How've you been?" Ichabod cringed, his hand came to his forehead, pushing back his locks as he returned upright. He turned to find Ms. Jacobs on the sidewalk in front of the house. Judging by her attire he reasoned she'd been out for a jog. She checked the fitness tracker on her wrist and continued walking in place awaiting his reply.

"Hello Ms. Jacobs, I am quite well thank you, and how are you faring on this fine afternoon?" He responded, lengthening his frame in an attempt to hide how discombobulated he was.

"I can't complain." She stated, stopping her legs, and taking a few steps through the grass. She squinted, casting a hand in front of her visor. "Just soaking up this warm weather." She replied, twisting her head in an effort to see around him. "Did you get locked out?"

"Oh, no. I merely," Ichabod legged down the steps. "I merely dropped my keys." He explained, jingling them in front of him as proof.

"Oh." She smiled, seeming satisfied. "Well good, don't want that." She casually added, eyes rolling over him in barely contained admiration of the way he filled up his suit. His hands clasped in front of him, a posture he'd learned to adopt when speaking with her as a practical measure of stopping her from casting glances at things she ought not look at—dick gawking, Abbie called it. The next few moments he pretended to listen while she went on about the time she'd gotten locked out of her house, and needed to call for a locksmith. His social skills allowed him to fill in the "hmms", and "such a shames" at all the appropriate pauses, but the only thing he could think of was the woman walled up in the house behind him.

"Boy I haven't seen you around in a while, I mean in person, I saw the editorial about your app in the paper, and read all about how you're funneling those proceeds into education." She gushed. "I said to myself, now that must be why he's never home anymore." She threw out there.

"Yes well, I'm afraid I have been quite preoccupied with work obligations recently." He informed her, noting the subtle dig for info he heard laced in her voice.

"Yeah, I've noticed. So you're no longer at the university?"

"No—rather, yes." He clamored, reconciling things inside of his own head before taking a breath to explain. "I mean yes and no. I remain on faculty at the university, however I am negotiating to do so more in the vein of a visiting professor. My entrepreneurial ventures have commanded my attention as of late." He stated.

"Jan and I were just talking about how exciting it all must be." She said referencing another one of their neighbors, "You must be very, very, busy, I've noticed your car is never here when I leave for work in the morning. Come to think of it I hardly ever see it in the evening either."

"I am." He replied with a nod. "Quite busy, although hopefully that will change soon."

"Oh, hey Abbie!" She waived, causing Ichabod to look over his shoulder just in time to see the drapes close.

Ms. Jacobs frowned looking off at the window a moment before returning her gaze to him. "I don't think she saw me." She reasoned.

"Oh, of course not." He stated knowing full well his wife had seen her. "The glare." He offered, casting a hand up toward the sun. "Apologies," he smiled, "I am afraid I must excuse myself." He glanced back at the window before returning his eyes to her. "It was a pleasure chatting with you Ms. Jacobs."

A warm smile curled his neighbor's lips, as she took in his closed lipped grin. He'd grown accustomed to seeing that particular smile from her. It always lingered a bit too long.

"Anytime, the pleasure was all mine." She stressed, lowering her eyes across his frame before returning to her walk.

Ichabod, silently scoffed as he started making his way back to the front door. Suddenly the idea of banging upon it embarrassed him, and he doesn't know how he didn't realize what it must have looked like before. Abbie had the ability to take him so far away from himself. People noticed things, and though Ms. Jacobs didn't lack the tact, or have the gall to come right out and ask him whether he still resided here, he knew she wanted to. He changed paths, and marched into the garage, shutting the door behind him.

Abbie stood over the stove frying another piece of bologna.

"Abbie." Ichabod called, knuckles rapidly rapping against the door. She tried to ignore him, but ultimately couldn't resist venting a bit of her frustration. She left the stove and walked over to stand in front of the door.

"Oh, I see you're done talking to the chairman of your little neighborhood fanclub." She taunted, unable to stop herself.

"Fanclub?" Ichabod repeated confused. He opened the door as far as he could before the latch activated.

"Lieutenant wait!" He called, leaning his face into the crack just in time to see her slowly backing away. She paused, arms folding in front of her as she looked out at him. He breathed a little easier knowing she'd stayed.

"Please," he softly entreated, "open the door so that we might look upon one another and speak of this face to face. Apple…I love you."

There was a moment of silence but he could tell his words were sinking in. She took a tiny and hesitant step forward, eyes watering as her hand raised to unchain the lock.

"That's it Apple." He breathed, but immediately wished he hadn't. Something sprang alive in her eyes just as her fingers touched the metal. He watched her shake her head and recommence backing away.

"No-no-no, Abbie!"

She was gone.

Ichabod was doing his best to exercise restraint. He could have easily broken the chain, a multitude of ways in a split second. But he'd never been one to do things simply because he could. At the end of the day, he didn't live there any longer, what right did he have to destroy her property, or even be in her space when she didn't wish for him to be. He was stuck, muddled in some sort of vampiric existence of waiting to be invited in.

Abbie's lips tightened into a frown as she tried to stop herself from getting choked up. He sounded so sad, and every part of her wanted to let him in. She stood over the stove tearing up as she flipped her lunchmeat, and cut a slit in it.

"Please just, just go away Ichabod."

"Please speak to me." He pled.

A few tears fell over into the pan and sizzled alongside her lunch meat.

"No." She sobbed, a hand darting up to cover her mouth the second she heard how emotional she sounded, she hadn't fully realized she was crying. She cleared her throat and strengthened her voice.

"Just leave me alone." She managed.

"Apple, treasure let me in." Ichabod petitioned, heart thumping wildly because he could hear now that she was crying. He had to get inside. Just as he'd resolved to break open the door, he caught sight of his ladder out of the corner of his eye.

A few minutes later Abbie was sitting at the table eating and crying at the same time. Ichabod had closed the door, and stopped knocking. She hadn't heard his car start, but maybe he'd gone. Hell maybe he had gone to Ms. Jacobs', lord knows she was down for the cause.

Stop. You know better. That woman flirts and talks his ear off every chance she gets, and it's never bothered you before.

Yeah but he wasn't falling asleep on couches with random women before, she thought as she tearfully chewed her food. And I wasn't having dreams about him being with other women before…and he sure as hell wasn't saying things that made me feel like any of that was possible. She rose and took her plate to the sink, conflicting emotions warring inside of her as she flipped on the faucet. A large crash rumbled from the upstairs, unsteadying her and ripping her from her thoughts. She trotted up the steps to investigate the noise, and made it halfway down the hall before she saw Ichabod coming out of Jenny's room dusting himself off.

"Ugh." She grumbled, turning on her heel, and rapidly moving in the other direction. Her feet sped up in reaction to the sound of his long legs striding behind her. She practically ran the final steps to her room, and slipped inside instantly turning to slam the door, but Ichabod's palm caught it before it closed.

"I have had my fill of barriers between us on this day wife." He stated bullying his way in.

"Leave me alone Crane." She snapped, folding her arms in front of her.

How.

A million thoughts coursed through his head as he tried to figure out a way to alleviate the burden he saw in her eyes. He wanted to tell her that she should stop saying things she didn't mean, especially hurtful things. He knew as well as she did that she needed him here right now. But he also knew that such a proclamation would only anger her further, and cause her to fight against his presence even more. He chose another truth instead.

"I am afraid I am woefully incapable of fulfilling such a request." He responded, unable to stop his hand from reaching for her. She stepped back and twisted away from his touch, the fabric of the shirt she wore just slipped through his fingertips.

It hurt him and she could see it immediately, the same way she could see how sorry he was from the moment he stepped into the room. It didn't change the fact that he'd trampled all over her feelings, or that she could still hear the callous condescension he'd spoken with before. He couldn't just go around saying whatever he felt like saying and then apologizing and expecting her to forget it. Not after he'd done so much to make her love him this way, with everything. Not when her hormones had her so out of whack that she'd actually gotten jealous over him talking to that dick gawking Carol. Not when she was so unsure of things all of a sudden.

"I've no idea how…" He sighed, and pressed on, "I might go about leaving you be." He solemnly confessed, voice heavy with the weight of that realization. His brain never failed him, but it was useless as a second asshole where she was concerned, he couldn't reason his way out of everything he felt for her. She caused him to operate differently, and because of that, sometimes he said and did things that he shouldn't. He knew that better than any.

"I did not mean the things I said in the manner in which you took them—in which it was relayed." He quickly corrected himself, already reading her dissatisfaction with his words.

Abbie laughed, shaking her head at his half ass apology, but the tears in her eyes told him that she didn't find it amusing at all.

"Bull." She said, dropping her arms to her sides. "How else could you have meant it?"

He stood quiet because quite honestly he was still is unsure as to what had come over him, and propelled him to say some of the things he'd said. All he can truly recall is how upset he became when she wanted to leave.

"Or better yet," Abbie continued, shrugging her shoulders. "How else could I have taken it?" She asked providing him with another option as she waited for him to respond. He didn't, he stayed quiet as a church-mouse, eyes shifting nervously, and filling with remorse.

"What it is," Abbie stepped forward looking up at him, "is you called yourself putting me on notice that according the world you have some things going for yourself. I don't dispute that." She shrugged, "It's clear for all to see."

Ichabod tried to interject but she spoke over him.

"Don't." She warned through clenched teeth. "What you fail to realize is that I never cared about what you had or didn't have, and I'm sure as shit not about to start now."

"Abbie I never suggested that you did," He carefully pled, trying to keep his outrage that she believed such at bay. "Try to understand."

"—But you did…you did." She shook her head, as fat tears welled in her eyes, petitioning for freedom. The longer she looked at his face the closer she came to giving it to them. She looked away for a moment finding the strength to hold them back, vowing not to let him see one tear after the way he'd spoken to her.

"Or at least you suggested that I should care. Because that's what they care about right? These women you spoke about, the ones who wouldn't mind being positioned in my shoes."

Ichabod would have given anything for a time machine.

"They don't even know you Ichabod." She calmly reminded him. "Maybe they read something about your app on some blog, or sat across from you at some meeting or saw your picture in the paper," she said nodding toward the article still sitting on her nightstand, "but they don't know you." She said, disgusted they were even having this conversation.

"I love you," She said clutching her chest, "I am here for you." She pointed at him. "I don't care what anyone else sees in you, or how anyone else sees you, because I see you. I always have."

The pain in her voice ate away at him, he could scarcely comprehend how terribly he wanted to hold her just then. The prickly feeling in his eyes informed him that he needed her in his arms as much as she needed to be held, but he knew better than attempting it. He wished he could take back the words that caused her to feel this way, but knew he couldn't do that either.

"Treasure"

"—I love you even if no one else in the world loves you, and I thought you understood that." Her resignation rang through in her tone. "I thought that you felt the same way about me."

"Of course I do." He pledged, frustration coloring his voice. "Abbie…of course I do."

"Well then how would you feel?" She asked. "How would you feel if I essentially accused you of only assigning value to me based upon how much someone else wanted me?" She questioned. "I'm just curious, how you might feel, if I told you about all of the men who wouldn't mind sliding into those size fourteens?" She said pointing down at his shoes.

"What is that to mean?" He asked, now leering at her.

"I suppose the same thing that you meant." She answered, staring up at him.

He was the teacher in the family but somehow she was better at it. Even when he hated her lessons, he clearly understood them. He looked down at the ground a moment trying to stop himself from growing angry, but it was too late. He now fully understood the error in his wording, but wasn't quite certain how to make it right. Abbie looked up at him watching annoyance tighten his jaw. He looked away in an attempt to hide how much her words bothered him.

"Mm-hmm, that's what I thought." She stated.

He already knew what time it was. But he would never hear of the men who she could tell were still waiting in the wings, hoping and looking for any entry she might provide. He would never here of the men she had to check hard for their attempts to cut into her despite her relationship with Ichabod. They didn't matter, and she would never bring it up. The same way she never brought up the random guys, such as the one that started flirting with her in his office elevator when she was barefoot as a fucking Flintstone.

Ichabod understood that she was upset but nonetheless he wished she would have proved her point using another illustration. Because she has been here, and he has been there, and hearing about any mention of men who wanted her only caused him to grow defensive and jealous. He wanted to know what was said, when and where it was said, and by whom. He only grew more irritated realizing he was in no position to ask.

"And now you're angry." Abbie said throwing her hands up. Exasperated, she took a deep breath and walked over to the wall to rest her shoulders.

"Not with you." He said after a few too many moments of silence so it seemed out of nowhere.

"What?" Abbie asked, breaking from her muddled thoughts.

"I am not upset with you." He said.

"With who then?" She shrugged looking around. He sulked a moment, biting his tongue, fingers going haywire at his sides.

"Crane?"

"—What men?" He pouted.

"Not this shit again, that's the whole point! Were you even listening to me? They don't matter!"

"IT MATTERS TO ME!" He shouted so loud Abbie would have bet money the windows rattled.

Oh. She thought, swallowing hard as her lashes fluttered in front of freshly sobered eyes. A moment ago he was on zero, but somehow blew by every digit between one and ninety-nine, and landed right on a hundred. He was clearly conflicted, as evidenced by the booming thickness in his voice and the contemptuous scowl covering his features. A mixture of remorse, nervous excitement, and unpremeditated arousal swept through her. He kept so much inside that whenever he stepped outside of his carefully calibrated system of manners it always got to her.

"Crane." Abbie said softening in lieu of his distress, hating to see him upset.

"You" He said, voice lowering as he stepped in front of her, "are all that I have…you're all that I want, you and my sons. And when someone seeks to take you away from me, they seek to divest me of everything." He confided, expression shaped with ire.

"So perhaps it is best that they are made aware that I will use anything and everything at my disposal to prevent such an event from ever occurring." He looked down at her wondering if she had any idea of the cities he would topple for her honor. "I cannot lose you." He declared, blue eyes teeming with anguish. He stepped closer, raising the temperature in the room.

"I cannot lose you, and I feel as though I am."

"Hey." Abbie softly called, placing a hand to his chest.

"—Every single day, I feel as though I am losing you. And much worse I feel powerless to stop it. I have done all that I know how to do Abbie." He added now standing so close that his feet were positioned outside of hers. She could hardly breathe. He placed his hands to the wall behind her, and lowered his head.

"Instruct me how to reach you." He whispered, voice taking over her senses. "What words might I speak that have a prayer of finding your ears, what act might I complete to prove to you that we belong with one another. Speak it and see it done." He pleafully intoned. Nervous worry travelled up from his middle and constricted his chest when his plea was met with no response. The little bit of breath he could draw, he held in as he found the courage to ask his next question.

"Are you finished with me then, is that it?" The warm air between their lips was all hers, he couldn't think of breathing until he heard her reply. He grew more worried watching her eyes fill with water.

She couldn't imagine how to be done with him. This magic between them, this star-stuff was much too alive to kill. Walking away from him would be the equivalent of trying to bury something that hadn't died. They'd be haunted for all eternity.

"No." She managed, in a quiet shaky voice.

Ichabod released a quick breath, relief pumping through his veins as he bowed his head to hers. His eyes slipped closed in thanksgiving as he sighed a soft kiss to the side of her head. His hands fell from the wall, and gently cupped her face, as he dabbed another grateful kiss between her brows. She was still here with him, but he couldn't figure out how to go from where they were to where he wanted them to be.

"What can I do to—" He stopped speaking abruptly, as something came to him. Abbie had watched a light turn on in his eyes, but now he was backing away. He stood straight, and raised a finger.

"Wait here." He directed before marching toward the door. As soon as he reached it he froze in his tracks as if some invisible barrier precluded him from exiting. He slowly turned back and returned to her.

"I mean, wait here for my return, please." He entreated, taking her hand. The memory of the last time he asked her to wait and left the room still fresh in his mind. "Right here." He added before reluctantly letting go. She smiled as he again turned around in route to the door, making certain she was still there, like she was somehow going to magically disappear if he took his eyes off of her.

"Still here." She teased when he looked back the third time, he smiled and disappeared from view.

Abbie stepped her legs forward a bit in order to lean more of her weight against the wall. She heard him running down the stairs and wondered what he was up to. She rested her eyes while she waited, body growing heavy as the day's events began catching up with her.

A bit later she'd heard his footsteps on the stairs, but lazily kept her eyes closed enjoying every second of the restful quiet. But when she never heard him reenter the room her eyes pulled open in search of him. The search was short, and the first thing her eyes saw was his large frame filling the doorway. She couldn't recall him ever looking more handsome, tufts of hair slipped from his ponytail in a way that it normally only did after a full day's wear. And my God his eyes are actually sparkling. He stood tall and silent in a light that seemed to come from every direction, and everything he was to her was realized all at once. Her eyes dropped to the black heels dangling from his fingertips. She bit her lip to stop it from trembling and quickly averted her gaze, tearfully looking off across the room. The apology in his eyes was a bit much for her to take in, just seeing it made her hyper aware of how vulnerable she was with him.

Still Ichabod didn't come in right away, he stood in the doorway considering her, wondering how any mirror could ever reflect what he saw when he looked at her. There was no device created with a prayer of capturing who she was, and all the grace she contained. Her eyes remained trained upon the floor in front of her, and he could sense her growing more emotional with every step he took. He waited briefly for her to look up, but when she failed to raise her gaze to him he crouched to his knees, and eased back on his haunches, effectively lowering himself into it. He looked up at her, her small hands wiped away a few tears before pressing against her eyes to subdue any more from forming.

His calloused palm slipped behind her knee, and down her calf, pulling her bare foot from the ground and bringing it to his lips. He pressed a warm kiss to her toes that travelled directly to her heart. Abbie struggled to keep the water inside of her eyes from spilling over as he gently guided her foot into her shoe before repeating the steps with the other one. With her feet securely returned to the ground he raised to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, her hands slipped through his locks.

"Forgive me." He pled in a quiet tone. She nodded, and his chest tightened in agony as her cool tears dropped against his upturned face.

He could never get over how much he hated to see her cry. He placed a foot to the ground and straightened to his full height, swapping gazes with her in the process, now his lowered while hers lifted.

"I was wrong to say the things I said back at the office." He admitted, arms coiled around her knowing if his touch provided her with even a fraction of the security, and comfort hers gave him, she would be at peace.

"I see and appreciate all that you do Abigail. The security and protection you provide in service of so many others. How diligently you pursue justice, no matter what danger comes with it, it worries and impresses me all in the same breath." He soberly admitted. "I could never find words with a prayer of adequately relaying all of the joy that you bring to my life, all of the joy that you bring to the children's lives…how perfectly you care for them, our family." He emphasized, squeezing her a little tighter.

"No one could ever dream of replacing you…of standing in your shoes." He whispered. "And I will be willfully branded a fool for ever saying anything that encouraged you to think I believed anything to the contrary." He breathed, caressing her face.

"You stand and breathe in an air all of your own, and I believe you are aware of that. If I am crass it is merely because I am quite aware of it as well, and your absence from my life wounds me like the piercing of a thousand blades. Each day I feel as though it could not possibly hurt any worse, and the next morning when the sun rises without you in my arms I am a proven fool. I feel as though I am trapped inside of a constant fall, but there is no bottom Apple." He shakily admits, eyes heavily reddened and watery.

He thought to tell her how he hadn't felt this way in years. It is a certain unmistakable sort of pain, a feeling almost that he'd been thrown away. He remembered it well from the way he'd felt when his father disavowed him. His mother's efforts to mend things between the two of them only served to place a strain upon his parent's relationship so much so that Ichabod made a decision to cease all contact. He remembered thinking then he couldn't have been more alone, and that particular sort of loneliness, loneliness for a true home, never left him. At least not until he met Abbie, and together with her created a new one. But when he lost her, it was even worse than before.

Abbie looked up at the tears and pain he held back and felt a fresh crop of her own spill over. He thumbed away the wetness springing from her eyes. Following the damp spots with his lips.

"There is no bottom to this pain I feel, I need you." He stated brokenly. "I am drowning without you." He whispered as his lips fell to hers, the tenderness they brought with them closed her eyes on impact.

Abbie whimpered beneath his wet soft lips, stretching herself up to meet them continuously. Listening as he repeated how much he needed her every time he managed a breath. And just like that, she was lost in him. When his arms locked and tightened around her it became clear that somewhere in his process of tearing down her walls he had become one. Come hell or high water he was always ready to defend her, and she flowered inside of his protection.

His love, in its truest form, felt like a mix between the excitement of running towards a hundred foot cliff at full speed, and the security of knowing he would never let her go over. He proved it over and over again. She had always been bold, but his love afforded her a sort of comfort and recklessness she hadn't known before. It dizzied her. He became another someone to look after her, and the tiny moments she was allowed relief from looking after herself changed the anatomy of who she was. The world received a looser, less constrained, happier Abbie because of him. An Abbie who allowed herself more than one drink at a social outing, because she knew he would see her home. An Abbie who ushered her sister toward the idea of love, instead of cautioning her away from it. An Abbie who decided, maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to bring a child into this world. She'd thought of a million different ways to tell him how he'd changed her, why she could never be done with him, but the words never felt right.

"This is killing me." She heard his velvet voice whisper between the soft clicks and smacks of their lips coming together.

"Being somewhere that you are not. Waking from slumber and reaching for you, because…just a moment before you were there at my side, and suddenly, you're gone." Ichabod pulled back a bit, swallowing the lump in the back of his throat to ward off his tears.

"It feels so unquestionably real at times, I can hear your voice in my ear, or feel you in my arms. I even taste you in my dreams Apple, I taste you…and then I wake with empty arms." He informed her, heartbroken.

"That is the manner in which my day begins—each day—and if by some magical anomaly I am managing to make it through my day without this constant yearning for you, some random soul behind a register at the pharmacy, or bank, or café, or wherever asks me if there is anything additional that I require, anything that I need…and then it's 6am all over again. And I need you. I need to be with my wife."

Abbie quietly wept, reeling from the devastation she heard in his voice.

"That's what I want more than anything." She cried, sniffling as her fingers cupped his face. She nodded her head at the combination of hope and disbelief streaking through his eyes. She broke down right then and there, and everything she'd been going through came choking out.

"I've been trying really hard to be strong and do what I thought was best for everyone, but it isn't working. Nothing is working or feels right without you here, and I cannot explain to you how much I hate it. I thought that this would help, but I don't know that Jeremy's any better off than he would be, and I'm so sad, almost all of the time." She quietly sobbed, voice growing hoarser as she tried to get control of it.

"And I don't want it to be like this anymore, and I don't want you to fuck other women," She cried popping him in the shoulder, "Are you fucking crazy!" She asked, voice breaking with emotion. Ichabod was completely stunned and dumbfounded.

"Other wha—Abbie?! What in God's world, what would give you such an idea? Am I," He stuttered, pointing to himself, "Am I crazy?" He asked, genuinely wondering if he was. He'd never thought about sleeping with other women, but clearly she believed otherwise.

"Apple I would never think of it. What is the cause of this, have I done something to make you believe these things?" He asked, amazed by this new level of fragility she'd revealed to him.

"You said," Abbie sniffled and cleared her throat working to remove the emotion from her voice. "You said that I was doing what I needed to do as far as, moving on, and then you told me to rest assured that you were going to do the same." She stated, eyes growing sad with the memory of it.

"Like what the hell was that supposed to mean?" She sniffled, slapping his shoulder as she tried to take a breath.

Ichabod stood still a beat, waiting for her to produce the information she'd used to base her assumption upon. It took him a moment to understand he'd just heard it.

"Is that—is that all?" He asked, taking her hand in his. "That is what I said that caused you to believe that I intended to take up with other women?" He questioned, still very much confused.

"Crane." She stated, tone warning that she wasn't to be toyed with, but then she watched his eyes widen, and started to feel a little silly and defensive. Maybe she'd gotten it wrong.

"Well when you said it—the way you said it you looked so, I don't know, pissed and done." Abbie said, beginning to feel sillier by the second in sight of the confused expression on his face. "Okay. All I can tell you is how it felt, and it felt like a threat, it felt like an I'll show you type of thing, and it really..."

She sealed her lips and frowned up at him, not wanting to finish the sentence but it didn't matter he could work it out for himself. It hurt her.

"I was upset," He quickly informed her. "Still it is no excuse for the tone I took with you, especially when the bulk of my anger was directed at myself." He said shaking his head, a puff of air flew out of his nostrils.

"What?"

"Clearly there are things I'd been taking for granted. Chiefly among which was your knowledge of my devotion to you. You came to the office with a suspicion, and you can protest that you did not, but I understand you well enough to know that even though it was not your primary cause for visiting, even if it wasn't conscious, there was a curiosity there. The fact that you felt the need to do so is a failing on my behalf." He continued, placing a gentle caress to her face. He wondered how he could have all that he had in front of him, and not make it clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that he understood how lucky he was.

"Had I been all that I should have been then you would have known that you never need to leave this house to find out where my heart is. When you are here, it is here, the moment you walk out of the door it travels with you. It is always with you." He quietly asserted, fingers dropping to her waist. "How can I show you that?"

Abbie took a shaky breath. "You could come home." She offered, tears spilling down her face as she looked up at him. "It doesn't have to be today, or even this week, but" Her lips quivered as she pled. "Last night when we were talking, that was what I wanted to ask you…to come home."

Ichabod heard her voice but still couldn't quite believe his ears as he gazed down at her.

The small bit of silence created an anxiety in her, it was easy enough for her to recognize that his homecoming might be easier said than done. Her nerves took over, prompting her to speak rapidly as she tried to explain all of the reasons that it might be okay for him to return home before he could offer even one why it might not.

"I know you might not be able to right away because of J, and I know you probably need to talk to his psychologist and make sure things are done in the best possible way to protect him, but I mean honestly he's here all of the time anyway—and I love having him here don't misunderstand that—I'm just thinking that because he already does spend so much time here, maybe it won't be so hard to work out a schedule with Katrina that you can both agree on, and," She pauses through a sniffle, "maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal if you didn't technically live in the same house as him. And then maybe I wouldn't feel like I was taking something away from you by being with you because…because I can't not be with you Crane, it doesn't work."

"—Abbie," Ichabod took her chin between his fingers as he lowered his head to rest against hers.

"You are giving me everything." He declared. "Your being with me gives me everything. And as far as my return home…how's now?" He asked, wondering if she truly believed that he would ever have her wait. Gaging from the relief he heard in the breath she took in, she did. Abbie swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Really?" She snuffled, raising her arms around his neck. Ichabod was felled by how adorable uncertainty sounded in her voice.

"Really." He laughingly confirmed, tightening his grip around her and drawing her to his chest as he silently thanked God that his prayers had been answered.

"Did you honestly imagine that I might say no?" He asked, dropping a quick kiss to her forehead, as he delicately drug his fingers through her braids.

"Actually I had a dream, more like a nightmare that you said just that, well in so many words." She admitted, "I asked you to come home and, you were with someone else. Waking up that morning was..." she shook her head and sighed, eyes revealing how terrible she'd felt upon having the dream that she'd chased him down to ask him to come home, and he was held up with some woman. "I've had better days." She relayed.

"Forgive my manners, but the me of your dreams sounds like an unmitigated imbecile. Further I'd like to go on record in stating that I no longer wish for him to represent my interest. In fact, I think it best you never listen to him again."

Abbie's chuckle bent her head forward, and Ichabod seized the opportunity to anoint the side of her head with worshipful kisses.

"I don't know, he's kinda cute." Abbie mused.

"Is he?" Ichabod asked in that bass filled voice that flared her nostrils.

"Uh-huh." She replied, loosely pulling at his tie, until he bent to accept her tiny delightful kisses. Ichabod was so overjoyed he could hardly catch his breath. He regarded her through rapid blinks he hoped would obscure the liquid covering his eyes, but he knew she could read his emotion. If not in his eyes, then surely in his skin. He could easily feel how flushed his face had become.

"I love you so very much." He declared, encasing her in his arms as a million prayers of gratitude bounced through his spirit. "None of this matters without you."

There was a joyful glint in his eyes, and a slight upward bend in his lips, but she could tell that he was still hurt. Though he'd never say it, she knew that she wasn't the only one with abandonment issues. Still after weeks of a separation that he'd begged, and fought against, she asked him to come home, and he said yes without hesitation. He was so eager to get past this. A little part of her knew that had the roles been reversed she wouldn't have been so quick to accept his invitation. But at the same time a part of her also knew that if she had an ex and a child show up out of the blue, stepping aside would be the last thing he'd consider doing. They loved so differently from one another, and still…it worked.

"I'm sorry." She slowly whispered with a soft caress of his cheek, vowing then and there to never send him away again. "I'm so sorry baby." She repeated, as he nodded his head, letting her know he understood what she meant. She could have said more, but knew he was sensitive about the issue and chose not to.

Ichabod knew she understood how he felt, they had discussed at length the pain he'd endured when his father disowned him. She didn't have to say it, just seeing the recognition in her eyes further cemented their bond.

"I'm going to make it up to you alright." She swore. "I don't know how but I'm going to do whatever it takes."

"This" He says constricting his arms around her, "Is all that I shall ever require of you. Simply be with me Abbie. Hold me when I'm weary, kiss me when I wake…and love me until my final breath."

He squeezed her close, and bowed his head filling his lungs with her breath. Abbie blinked slowly, mindlessly rubbing the edge of his button up between her fingertips.

"Is that all?" She replied, lashes hanging low in anticipation of his kiss. Her voice was quiet, nothing beyond a breathless whisper, one Ichabod found so intoxicating he leaned in and suckled it right off of her lips. Abbie knew she was still in the same location, half slunk against her bedroom wall, but still couldn't overcome the far away feeling that rippled through her veins. All six foot one of her husband leaned over her, dropping his head, taking and giving kisses as he pleased. The house was quiet, and so empty it felt like the air was moving through it untouched, every caress lasted longer, felt deeper, and tingled more than the one before it. It felt odd, the two of them being there in the middle of the day when all of the world was at work. Peaceful tranquility swirled through the halls around them, and it almost seemed like a secret, time pilfered away from the things they should have been doing. In that moment they were the only things in the world.

The light eclipsing the windows glowed all around the room, intensifying the feeling of paradisiacal seclusion. Abbie sighed against his lips, over-indulging in his honeyed kisses as her hands freed his button up and undershirt from his suit pants.

Ichabod couldn't keep his lips off of her, but he tried to long enough to tell her how beautiful she was, and how terribly he wanted her. His voracious tone rung in her ears, and embezzled its way into her pulse, thumping up her attraction to near unmanageable proportions. He widened his stance, searching for room his trousers no longer had. His shortened frame squeezed her tight enough to let her feel how hard he was. As if she didn't already know. As if the dark longing in his eyes wasn't enough to cue her in. As if she hadn't already been crawling out of her skin from the press of his dick against her center.

Every kiss he levied against her lips reminded her of the way he'd loved her even when they were apart, gently but thoroughly. The nightly texts just to check on her, cleaning and gassing up her car, the yard-work, the emergency money in her cookie jar she'd yet to have a chance to chew him out about. She still wasn't happy about him paying off the house but she understood why he did it, it was the type of person he was. She wondered if he had any clue of how good it felt—his love, she wondered if he had any idea how badly she ached for him and how much love she was prepared to give him in return.

Her lips pressed into his neck the moment she untied his tie. He replied by carefully tracing her rear with his palms. The second he finally squeezed it, a low anguish filled moan slipped from the back of his throat and Abbie swore she actually felt his mouth water. Suddenly the idea of finessing his shirt open became a memory, buttons flew everywhere, clacking and pinging against this and that as they scattered across around the room. She grew gluttonous in her desire for him, her tongue and lips joined in tandem sucking the flesh at the hollow of his throat as she drug his shirt down his arms. His undershirt wasn't far behind it, and a continuous crop of shivers erupted when her lips drug moist kisses against his chest.

Ichabod nudged her chin skyward, delicately nibbling her lips as he rejoined their forms.

"May I?" He murmured, fingertips slipping up the back of her bun. Abbie nodded and raised her hands to help him let down her hair. He stood still a moment, leaning back and just watching her. The wonderment painted in his eyes made her feel like the most beautiful creature in the world. After uncoiling her bun, Abbie carefully removed the hairband she'd formed her ponytail with, Ichabod's eyes watched her with attentive fascination, and she knew then she would never have to show him how to let her braids down again. He gently stroked her hair, pushing a few of her braids away from her face before slipping his fingers up through the back of them and bringing her lips back to his. He dipped down sucking the flesh against the side of her neck, and though she knew he was leaving marks, it felt too damn good to make him stop.

His touch always had that power over her, overthrowing her mind with the things he so easily did to her body. He'd barely laid a finger on her and already she was dripping down her thighs. She could blame it on a lot of things, the pregnancy certainly had her feeling juicier than usual down there. But all things being equal she's been around him long enough to know that his presence was the primary factor that caused this to happen. Back at his office she had gotten so wet that she worried she was spotting. She popped into his bathroom before leaving and realized she wasn't. She was simultaneously flooded with relieved and embarrassment. Even now her thighs shook from anticipation as his fingertips drug along the hem of her t-shirt.

"Did you miss me?" He whispered, fingertips warm and nimble as they grabbed hold of her just below her inner thighs.

His soft kisses grew passionate before she had a chance to answer, but she gave it a go, enthusiastically moaning her reply into his mouth. It made absolutely no sense, the same man who irritated all hell out of her earlier was now systematically unraveling her. She was positive that his hands between her thighs were the only thing keeping her knees from knocking together. The air grew dense and harder to breathe as his thumbs inched up the supple skin of her thighs, the dark twinkle radiating through his eyes lifted quivers from places she didn't know she had.

"Did Chloe miss me?" He breathed, low and husky. He was halfway through a cocky grin when his thumbs slipped across the answer. He nearly choked on air.

"Christ Apple." He muttered, mouth falling open. She supposed he didn't need any further confirmation. The higher he raised his thumbs the wetter she was, but even that hadn't prepared him for his fingers coming in contact with wet curls instead of fabric. How she managed to be right here in front of him absent any panties was a mystery. He chides himself for not being more attentive to it earlier.

"Your underpants?" He muttered, noticing the dryness in his mouth, and knowing exactly what he wanted to do to remedy it.

"I took them off." Abbie explained, feeling a little self-conscious. She lowered her eyes, down and away in an effort to battle a wave of bashfulness brought on from his penetrating gaze.

"They were…uncomfortable." drenched, she more accurately recalled, but as far as Abbie was concerned she'd be damned if she told him that. When she raised her eyes again his gaze was no less intense than the one that caused her to lower them. He was still glaring at her, eyes absent every ounce of the humanity she was used to finding in them.

"How so?" He asked, his deep voice echoing through her and turning on even more.

Abbie swallowed, unknowingly licking her lips. "They were…damp." She admitted.

"Damp?" He repeated, brows raising as his interest grew. "By what cause?" He asked, leaning forward to brush a row of open mouth kisses down the slope of her neck. Abbie gasped, cocking her head back. She was certain from his swaggering tone that he already knew how bad he had her out here, she didn't need to spell it out for him. But that seemed to be exactly what he was intent upon making her do.

In the blink of an eye his fingers had travelled undetected, and caressed the wet seam between her thighs. He could see how desperate it made her, how erratic and weighty her breathing became as he ghosted a finger along the crease. Having grown inpatient, Abbie greedily rolled her hips against his palm in an effort to force his motion.

"Tsk-tsk."

Ichabod quickly reprimanded, pressing her hips to the wall until she understood that he wouldn't touch her until she held still. Her shoulders heaved up and down along the wall, causing a smirk to grow across his face, he could almost feel her annoyance. It faded when his palm returned to her, touching her even gentler this time. She tried to repress her whimpers but they found their way out. Each of them filled with longing and complaint.

"Crane," She mumbled against his lips. By the sound of it he would have sworn it was going to be followed by a plea, but it never came. He abandoned her lips, and sucked a trail down her warm neck. The feel of him just inches away from where she wanted him coupled with the interplay of his tongue and teeth against her skin shot a million tiny chills through her body, and every last one of them settled against her clit.

Oh my God, please. By the time his teeth nipped at her collarbone she was too far gone to realize that the cotton v-neck she was wearing had been tugged down just enough to free her nipple.

"Crane! Jesus!" She shuddered, the sensation of his tongue swirling around her nipple forcing her to say his name with two syllables instead of one. A few seconds later his mouth was to her ear.

"Now tell me, what caused your undergarments to become…damp?" He queried, stopping his fingers against her closed petals long enough to enjoy watching her tremble.

Abbie could feel beads of sweat forming at her hairline. "What do you think Crane?"

Her retort brought a grin to his lips, and a confidence that bordered on the edge of smugness to his eyes.

"Tell me what I think." He countered, simultaneously pulling her mouth to his and easing a crafty digit between her silky folds.

Abbie threw her head back against the wall, whimpers spiraling out of her as her body sung his praises. Each wet messy kiss he placed to her flesh, be it upon her lips, or neck, or the tip of her upturned chin, set her skin aflame and melted her heart. It used to frighten her this feeling, having liquid for a heart, feeling it trickle into spaces it was never meant to occupy, swelling them with love. There wasn't a place on her body that she couldn't feel her heart beating in, palpitating from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, infusing her with a bliss so wide that she could hardly breathe. The scary thing is she doesn't even miss the air. Because when he goes and she can't be with him, and she can't touch him, and be close with him this way, she feels as though she can't breathe all the same, like she's suffocating, so she'd rather the deprivation came from this, from his gentle affection, and warm breath rolling against her face, from the pad of his thumb coiling leisurely circles around the nub at the top of her center.

"Why were they wet?" Ichabod breathed, pulling back enough to remind her that he meant to have an answer.

Abbie was undone. If his intentions were to have her actually speak, he was going about it all wrong. One, he'd already returned his tongue to her mouth, and two, every bone in her body trembled like she was stark naked on a three dog night. The more she tried to stop shaking, the harder she shook, and both of them knew her body well enough to know what was coming next.

Ichabod broke their kiss, and slowly dropped his fingers from her wetness.

"Baby!" She panted, doing everything she could to catch her breath while her stomach tightened in anguish.

"—Tell me." He whispered, thumbing her jawline, and in the process smearing it with the sweetness still covering his fingers.

"What do you want from me?" She breathed, wondering why truths he was already conscious of needed to be spoken.

Ichabod lowered his lips to her jaw, sucking up traces of the nectar he'd just left there. "Everything." He said as if it were nothing.

Abbie was quiet a moment, save the breaths that still came out heavy and uneven.

"From seeing you." She quietly admitted, eyes shimmering with a softness that managed to be both bold and meek. "They were wet from the moment I saw you today. From the moment you walked across your office, put your hand behind my back, and kissed my cheek." She breathed, done acting as if he didn't have it like that. "Is that what you want to hear? About what you do to me without even trying to."

There wasn't enough space inside of his chest for the pride she filled him with. Ichabod wanted to yank her from the wall and bury himself inside of her, but quickly counseled himself away from his impulses. Brashness was never the way to make her sing, and she may not have known it yet, but she was going to perform an opera for him here today. He stood tall, looking down at her through the bottoms of his eyes in that smug little glower that always seemed to reek of haughtiness. His eyes rolled down her frame, lids lowering with lust as he zeroed in on her stiff nipples poking out the fabric of his shirt.

"I've no recollection of your request to borrow my undershirt," he stated dragging the backside of his finger across her nipple, cock throbbing from the shudders it provoked. "I'm afraid I must beg its immediate return." He teased, holding his hand out between them. A devilish smile developed across Abbie's face as she raised the shirt over her head and pulled it free of her body and hair.

"Oops." She smirked, unapologetically eyeing him as the fabric sailed to the flooring between her heels. Ichabod ever the fast study immediately gleaned her meaning, but instead of dropping to his hunches to please her he hoisted her up the wall and buried his face between her thighs in what felt like one motion.

Abbie squealed his name, the shock of the blindside rendered her body tense. Her arms stretched chaotically along the wall grappling for something to hold on to, but the second his tongue found its orbit she settled in, and reached down weaving her fingers through his hair. She looked down at his crown, gasping as the tenderness she felt for him in that moment brought tears to her eyes. He had her, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never let her fall. Her legs hung over his shoulders, heels and all, while the steady lap of his tongue pushed her toward ecstasy. Ichabod moaned against her flower as an increase of her nectar slipped across his face, and saturated his beard. She tasted differently on his tongue, sweeter, but he couldn't tear his mouth away long enough to tell her.

"Oh my—Oh God!" Abbie sputtered erratically as she dug her fingers into his skull, holding him in place as she moaned through a mind bending orgasm. She was shaking like crazy when he brought her down, he leaned her weight against the wall, and lavished her with slow heartfelt kisses while her legs came back.

"You alright?" He whispered, nearly beside himself with want. His kisses were loving, patient, and wrought with heart stopping affection but Abbie could still taste his mania pulsing just beneath the surface. He needed her.

"You've made promises." She cooed, running her fingers down his chest. "I seem to recall something about a proper rod—" Abbie's tongue lagged the moment her palm came in contact with his hard-on.

"Ding," She quietly finished, eyes flaring wide as Ichabod's slammed shut. The strangulated noise he made was quite possibly the sexiest thing she'd ever heard in her life, and almost immediately she was desperate to hear it again.

"A rodding." She wheezed, breathlessly trying to finish her thought just as Ichabod captured her wrists and slapped them against the wall behind her.

"Fuck!" She winced, unable to get past how turned on she was just from feeling it. To think there was a time when she was afraid of it, when she tried to close her legs and move away from it. Those days were long gone.

Ichabod pressed his lips to hers, dropped his middle finger to her entrance, and instantly felt his knees weaken when her warmth suctioned around the tip of his digit like a wet glove.

"God's hooks," He muttered, unable to stop himself from easing his finger further into her wetness. "What am I to do with you wife?" He sighed against her lips. Abbie delicately nipped at his lips before sinking a kiss to them that dimmed his vision.

"Everything." She breathed, throwing his words back at him. She struggled to free her other wrist so she could show him precisely what she meant. "I want you to do everything with me."

Her words made Ichabod appreciate what very little resources he had to contend with all of her blessings. She was small to be sure, but certainly more than any two handfuls and mouthful could ever hope to contain. By his measure, too much of her offerings went to waste, such as the juices coating the finger he pulled from her, but was too preoccupied to find the time to suck clean. Because every second he spent making her come unhinged, unfastened his screws as well, and now he stood completely unwound with all of his nuts and bolts crashing to the floor. So he needed two hands upon his belt, and two hands unfastening his zipper, and two hands to lift her high enough to take him, because he doubted his ability to breathe again until he was inside of her. And he would rather keel over and pass out than delay feeling her around his cock for another moment.

So only after he raises her up does he even think of slowing down, not because he feels anything close to calm or control but because in spite of the lack thereof he loves her too much to ever hurt her, and he was as big as he'd ever been and as hard as steel. Not to mention it had been so long, and even though her arousal was painting his beard and chest he was conscious that only moments before she grabbed and held but one of his fingers, so taking his cock was going to be a stretch by any measure.

But the moment he guides himself inside of her, and slowly lowers her down his shaft he's reminded that stretching her middle was one of his specialties.

"Fuck Abbie." He huffed, realizing how horribly wrong he was about the breathing bit.

Abbie couldn't catch a breath either, and the ones she did manage to take did nothing but power a slew of tiny oh God's, and oh fuck's that metamorphosed into incomprehensible whimpering and moaning. One of her shoes never left the ground, and the other was on its way to join it but she couldn't feel it. All she could feel was him, this. The all-consuming nature of their love, like lightning zig-zagging through them on a steady unbroken current, and the world wouldn't exist again, couldn't exist again, until this was over. His wet lips opened against her neck she presumed in an effort to kiss her, but the only thing she can feel is his hot breath as he choked on quiet groans. Ichabod's huge palms clutched her bottom, and moved her up and down his length in a lung clearing, spine bending fashion. There was no tempering, nor masking, or repression of emotion because her brain was far too busy trying to recover from sensory overload to bother with fabricating anything. Everything she felt came out. A sheen of sweat covered her body as the gratification of being packed full with the thing she'd been praying for him to bring home washed over her.

"Mm-hmm," He cockily growled, and Abbie almost came instantly.

She'd heard this particular mm-hmm before and knew that it could be roughly translated as you asked for a rodding, and look at you now. Take notice of how I have you, oozing all over my cock, shivering, whining, and scratching from the feel of it.

"Tell me," Ichabod stated praying to keep his voice stable. "This rodding," he continued lowering his head and sucking in a mouthful of her lips, "Is it proper enough for you?"

"Crane!" Abbie cried out, nails piercing his skin as slick arousal poured out of her. She felt his shoulders slump beneath her arms as he drew still.

"—Don't stop!" She pleaded, body going haywire from the release she felt just a few strokes away. "Please don't stop!" She purred, tightening her legs around him.

"Not yet." He decided, pulling out of her.

"Baby! What, why?!" She griped, ready to absolute die.

He could have told her the truth. That he had waited far too long for this moment to let it pass by so quickly. That if he stayed inside of her for a split second longer he would have exploded. That he did, in fact, have a bit of pride left and he couldn't very well make a comment about proffering a proper rodding and then expire in the very next breath. He could have explained a lot but he didn't.

"Because I said." He chooses to say instead, softening the harshness in his tone by kissing her on the lips as he placed her back to the wall. She'd told him before how much she hated his arrogance, but Abbie wondered if he knew the reason was because of how disarmingly attractive she found it on him. His ego was as big as his dick, and both of them were exactly the sort of things she ran from in the past. But luckily his heart outsized them both. It was the only thing that made her take a chance on him.

"But baby please." She begged, sinking into his kisses. She knew the real reason for the break, the reason why now they were limited to kissing instead of making love. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd almost shit-talked himself into a premature nut.

He kept her arousal at a high level, and the steel she felt protruding against her belly told her it was much the same for him. He was always a pro at diverting her attention, so when his fingers subtly drifted from her rear and slipped down her thighs she barely noticed. Meanwhile his moist kisses kept her occupied as his elbows hooked beneath her knees and his palms came to rest flatly on the wall behind her. Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, hanging on for dear life as he re-entered her with a groan. Abbie gasped and cried out his name, nearly dying from how smooth and stiff he felt inside of her, like concrete sheathed in velvet. Now when he drove forward, her rear slapped into the wall in such a way that she thought it might crack. If Ichabod shared her concern he didn't show it, his focus was only on her, stroking into her even more deliberately, following through until the wall voiced it's complaint, and not stopping until he heard that little mewl she emitted every time he stretched her past her limits. The one that let him know he hit it just right. What's more is he didn't allow her a second to recover, the moment he pulled back he drove forward again rhythmically taking her apart.

Abbie was in the blind.

And it didn't take long for her to understand that it was his plan all along to seize control. From the moment she reached for him and he held her wrists to the wall he had set the tone. He was making love to her, or fucking her, she can't truly decide which as it all seemed to be a fine line. All she knew was that she never wanted him to stop. What she wasn't quite conscious of was the oxytocin running roughshod through her veins, reinforcing how good it felt, telling her how safe she was with him. Activating her neurological pathways of pleasure, and reminding her how deeply she loved him, strengthening her trust of him while simultaneously blocking all notions of pain.

He slowed down after a minute catching her lips in wet noisy kisses and softening the speed and power of his thrust. He eased forward trapping her soft body between his hardened frame and the wall, blanketing her with a continuous pressure that made her feel as though she was going to explode.

Now his lips were like feathers against her neck, issuing out tender heartfelt kisses that lasted three times as long as they normally did.

"Do you understand how much I love you." He carefully whispered, and even though it was a question, she knew it was a statement. "Adore you." He added, moving his hips in a way that should have been outlawed. A low whine slipped from Abbie's lips and he nearly lost his rhythm.

"Is this not what you've asked for Apple?" He gasped, slowly but surely transitioning from a grinding to an in and out motion that shattered her spirit.

"Hmm?" He growled when she couldn't intelligibly respond, deepening his thrusts, as if more good dick was actual punishment for her inability to speak something besides gibberish. His warm face pressed against hers as his voice fell to a whisper.

"Shh, then keep quiet and take it." He panted with a kiss he should have known didn't have a prayer of surviving her screams.

There wasn't a lot Abbie knew in that moment, for example she didn't know how to keep herself from hollering, and though her life was flashing right before her eyes she didn't know if it was actually possible for her to die from dick. If she was being one hundred, she didn't even know her name. What she did know was that every single stroke from his cock was taking her well past her previously defined limits, and her soul was mirroring the same action, stretching beyond her body because the love she felt in that moment seemed far too expansive for it to hold. She'd never been more immersed in a moment in her life, and though a part of her felt like she surrendered herself to it, like she'd surrendered herself to him, it was clear that wasn't the whole truth. Because even though he'd told her to take it, it felt like he was the one doing all of the taking. Every time he pushed in he took a little more of her and claimed it as his own, claimed dominion over it, and it wasn't long before everything had been yielded to him. Her damp form went slack against the wall as her limbs were not only useless, but foreign, like things in her possession that didn't actually belong to her.

Her wetness gushed and tightened around him grabbing his dick like it was the only joy she had ever known, and Ichabod, too long removed from what she did to him, faltered near instantaneously. Sweat dripped from his pores as he tried to find the strength to keep giving her what she deserved when the only thing he wanted to do was stay deep and release. A slew of minced oaths barreled from his chest, joining with her moans like an overture to the melodies to follow. His love for her, and unbending desire to please her were the only things that kept him from succumbing. He pushed himself to deliver every stroke as righteously as the one before it, driving her backside into the wall again and again. He kissed her softly and held her tight, ricocheting through delirium as she drew snug around him. She milked every drop of pent up lust from his flesh while their bodies shook with what felt like all of the universe's glory.

A few minutes later they lay spread out across the bed, both of their bodies heavily sheened with sweat. They lay engrossed in a reflective quiet, neither one of them finding the strength to speak or move since he'd laid them down. It was Ichabod who went first, reaching out and cradling her soft body to his side. The trembles his touch elicited told her that it was too soon, but she let him anyway. He dropped a few kisses to her head, which immediately intensified her aftershocks and caused her to plaster her thighs together.

"You're quite quiet." He observed, after a little while. He angled his head to look down at her while softly dragging his fingers up and down her back.

"Well you essentially told me to shut up." She joked, causing them both to chuckle.

"Reverse psychology." Ichabod beamed, stealing another kiss. "I love it when you sing for me." He added, heart still pumping with pride.

"I." Abbie cleared her throat, still not completely returned to earth. "Was it always like that?" She asked, eyes raising to his. She immediately turned her head, hiding a closed lipped smile brought on from the way he was looking at her. Like she was too good to be true, like she could walk on water, and place the stars into alignment…she knows the feeling.

"It was." He responded, confidence painting his tone as he kissed her temple. "At least for me." He added, "Which is why I always say"

Abbie chuckled before he could finish his sentence, and completed it for him. "—Why do we not do this more often." She smiled, laughing because he said that even during the times they had sex every day.

"Speaking of which," he said, slipping from beneath her and turning onto his stomach, "In retrospect of your making things up to me I'd like to add an addendum."

"Oh you're just gonna milk this for everything it's worth huh?" Abbie chuckled, reaching out to play with his hair.

"I'm no fool." He joked, winning a humorous grin.

"Alright, alright, alright." Abbie said, "What is it that I can do to make things up to you?"

"Well, to begin with I propose that whatever disagreement you and I share in the future, Chloe be left out of it. I think today's events are evidence that our estrangement was terribly unfair to her, and it certainly wasn't fair to me.

"How did I know you were on some bullshit before you even opened your mouth?" Abbie laughed. She pulled the pillow from beneath her head and clocked him with it. He quietly chuckled through the contact, and tossed the pillow to the floor.

"You should be made aware I am asking on behalf of Chloe," he continued raising a pointer finger, "A simple verbal acknowledgment or promise that in the future the three of us will be afforded equal say in the face of any decision making processes."

"Oh is that all." Abbie rolled her eyes, clearly amused. "I feel like I just promised in about five different octaves." She reminded him, covering her face with her hands as she thought about how loud she was. Ichabod pulled her hands from her face, and kissed her lips.

"My ears have known no sweeter sound."

"Aww." She smiled, lifting her lips to his. In that case, I suppose I could do it again. I mean if my first promise wasn't sufficient."

"Oh." Ichabod grinned, getting the loose idea. "It was wholly, wholly, insufficient. We may need to seal this accord upon several, several more occasions today. And I can hardly imagine what promises the morrow might bring."

"I bet." Abbie smirked. She lifted herself up and crawled over the top of him. His palms slid up her thighs as he lay back against the mattress.

Ichabod knew that she understood that he was simply teasing. He wondered though if she knew that she had given him enough love to last a lifetime and he would never really make such a request of her. Her fingers toyed with his long locks as she dropped a kiss to his lips.

"Really though, I don't know about this equal rights thing." She stated, laying her head on his chest. "The two of you would just gang up on me."

Ichabod wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the heavenly tingles that came from embracing her.

"Lieutenant, there's no need to be jealous of the bond Chloe and I share, after all it is you that has my heart, she simply has everything else." He teased.

"I believe it," Abbie chuckled against his chest, before raising her head to look at him. "She's been a mess since you left you know." She sighed, weaving her fingers through his hair.

"Has she?" Ichabod asked, playfully lifting his eyebrow. "Oh do share."

"No!" Abbie argued. "I've think I've shared enough today." He placed his fingertips to her side.

"Don't make me do it." He playfully threatened. Abbie's eyes narrowed.

"You wouldn't."

"You are leaving me with no other options. If I must tickle it out of you I will." He stated, giving her a quick tickle in preview.

"No! Okay, okay, I'll tell you." Abbie yelped, eyes bulging from her head in fear. "I hate that." She complained.

"Spill it."

"I don't know, she was just, doing weird things like…not calming down when I asked her to, or drooling all over herself whenever you were within five feet." Abbie admitted. "Like today."

Ichabod's smile lit up.

"It's not cute." Abbie said, but she knew she'd never convince him of that.

"I find it adorable." He maintained, completely ignoring her summation of the issue.

"I don't know what you did to her," Abbie said, sitting up straight, "but she doesn't listen to me anymore. You're like some kind of weird pussy whisperer or something." She joked, tucking a few braids behind her ear.

Ichabod's face cracked and went red at the same time. All movement in his chest froze, as his mouth hung open.

"Miss Mills!" He exclaimed through a smile nearly as wide as his eyes. Abbie felt a small rush of embarrassment from saying the word, but she didn't know why. It was just something she didn't normally say so it sounded odd coming from her mouth. The fact that she'd blurted it out was another testament as to how unedited she was with him.

"Miss Mills!" She returned. "Oh I can't be Mrs. Crane and say pussy huh?"

"Oh to the contrary my dear wife, it is the only word I ever wish to hear you speak again." He joked, sitting up and wrapping his arms around her waist. "In fact if it is not etched upon my tombstone in giant bold letters, I'm coming back from the dead to haunt you." He continued stretching out his hand as if he were actually visualizing the spacing of the words. "I can see it now, Here lies Ichabod Crane, Husband, Hero, Pussy Whisperer." He laughed, rapidly losing breath.

"I hate you." Abbie howled, holding back tears.

"I know." He chuckled after catching his breath, the joy of being with her this way winding through his frame. His voice took on a more serious tone as their laughter wound down. "I love how you hate me." He said. "Never stop."

In the blink of an eye the tears of laughter behind her eyes, turned into tears of joy.

"I won't." She promised, before cuddling him close and pressing her lips to his.

When their kisses grew heated, Abbie tried to slow things down and remove herself from his arms. The moisture between her thighs was out of control and she wanted to check it out and make sure everything was okay down there. Earlier, Ichabod's stomach was saturated with her arousal and it was transparent, but she still kind of wanted to double check.

"Where pray tell do you suppose you're going?" He asked, pulling her back to his lap.

"To the baathrooom!" She responded, trying to break free.

"Oh no you're not."

"I'm not?" She chuckled, her tone indicating it was news to her.

"No." He tightened his arms around her. "Not without first paying the toll."

The sound of the doorbell rang through the house, and the two of them froze, each gazing at the other with playful, curious eyes. Abbie placed her forefinger to her lips.

"Shhh," She whispered, "Maybe they'll go away."

When the bell sounded again, she chuckled into the crux of her husband's neck accepting defeat. She reached over and pulled her phone off of the nightstand.

"No one called. You?" Ichabod pulled himself up, and staggered over to the pile of clothes on the floor, smiling as his wife whistled at him. He looked down at his notifications after drawing his phone from his jacket pocket.

"No." He shook his head. "None that would be at the door."

"I think they've gone," He said wishfully, listening out as Abbie lay on her side letting her eyes crawl over his naked form. He took delight and her gaze and leisurely started towards the bed with all sorts of naughty intentions in mind.

Their neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Harold & Loretta Williams stood on the other side of the door bickering back and forth.

"Rita can we go home, I'm telling you they don't want to be bothered?" Harold argued. "Every time you watch Investigation Discovery you think someone's committing a crime."

"I heard screaming, loud screaming, clear as day when I was in the garden." Loretta maintained, as she pulled her scarf from around her neck and tucked it into her pocket with her gardening gloves.

"Now Abbie don't never have that kind of ruckus going on around here, especially when the kids aren't even home."

"That doesn't mean someone's being murdered woman."

"I heard Abbie," she said pointing up towards the house, "call out to God for help, and I'm not leaving this porch until I see that she gets it." She said resolutely. She stepped closer to her husband, staring up at him as she lowered her voice.

"Now like I've been telling you, they've been having problems. You remember that redhead woman that was staying here, the one they said was a friend of the family. I reckon her and Mr. Crane must've gotten all too friendly because seemed over-night they up and moved out of the house. I think Abbie caught them messing around and put em' both out, and good for her."

"Rita you can reckon anything you like, but no one knows what goes on inside of a marriage, or a household accept for the people in it."

"I know he showed back up with that poor sweet child, and left him here for Abbie to look after. Now what kind of mess is that?" She asked with astonishment, eyes bugging out of her head. "Probably from some other woman and marriage he done messed over. And I've seen him watching this house like some lunatic with my own eyes. I opened the blinds five-thirty in the morning in there he sat, out in his car looking up at this house. Now I'm telling you, I watched him climb a ladder up into that window, and then a little while later Abbie was screaming. I don't like him, and I don't trust him. You think he's good people because he shovels our walkway in the winter but I see through the ruse."

"You see a lot with that imagination of yours." Harold chuckled, giving up with a wave of his hand.

The second Ichabod's knee bent to the mattress, and lips touched Abbie's the vigorous knocking started up.

"God's wounds." He mumbled against his wife's smiling lips.

"Hurry back." Abbie cooed.

The knocking continued as he hastily dressed and jogged down the stairs.

"Oh, Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Williams," Ichabod smiled, noticing that only Mr. Williams returned it. He stepped back, stretching his arm out in invitation of entrance.

"What a delightful surprise, please do come in."

"Thank you, but we really don't want to disturb you." Harold said, as Loretta stepped across the doorway.

"Come along Harold?" She said, looking all around as her husband shook his head and reluctantly followed her in.

"May I offer you a drink?" Ichabod offered.

"No thanks." Loretta flatly replied. "Is Abbie in? I need to speak with her about something."

"Oh. Yes, yes she is." Ichabod stated. "However she is quite indisposed at the moment, is there something that I might be able to assist you with?"

Ichabod's eyebrow lifted as Mrs. Williams shot her husband a knowing look.

"No. I'm afraid I must insist upon speaking with her, it's quite important." Loretta held.

"Oh." Ichabod said a bit surprised, but not too, for months Mrs. Williams had acted awkwardly toward him. "In that case please forgive the delay, I shall deliver your message expeditiously."

"Satisfied?" Harold asked, watching Ichabod travel the stairs. "He's going up to get her."

"So he says," Loretta responded folding her arms across her chest. "I won't be satisfied until I lay eyes on her. You didn't hear the screams. I did. Loud at first, then like someone tried to muffle them out." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed a nine and a one in preparation.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm fixin' to call the police."

"She's a policewoman herself."

"Good, then they'll get her fast to see about her."

A few minutes later, Harold folded his arms and nodded upward as Abbie hurried down the stairs with Ichabod right behind her.

"Hi, Mr. Williams, afternoon Miss Loretta." She said a little breathlessly from rushing. She pushed her sleeves up her forearms as she stepped over to them. "Ichabod said you needed to see me." She smiled.

Mr. Williams looked over at his wife.

"Yes. Um." Miss Loretta couldn't remember a time that she'd been so sure and so wrong before. Never the one to bother with any pretenses or mince words she took Abbie by the arm, led her a few paces away from Ichabod and came right out with it.

"Well I've come to see if you were all right, I heard screaming, I was sure of it." She said, quietly. "I almost rang the police."

Abbie could have fit her fist inside of her mouth it hung open so wide. Horror pumped through every square inch of her body as she tried to come up with an excuse on the spot.

"Oh. Screaming?" She stalled, playing dumb as her palms grew sweaty. She quickly glanced at Ichabod but saw that he was too full of some sort of warped sense of accomplishment to be any kind of help. His face was red, but he looked like he was standing a full three inches taller.

"Oh yeah." Abbie said as it she'd just figured it out. "You know, I rearranged some furniture in my room last week, and I keep forgetting, and I stubbed my toe really, really hard."

"Your toe?" Miss Loretta asked, concern blanketing her voice as she looked down.

"Yes mam." Abbie replied, quickly sliding the foot behind her. I thought it was broken, but I soaked it a lil bit, and it feels better already. That's what I was doing. I mean why I couldn't come down right away." She stammered before looking over in time to see Ichabod's smug grin. None of it went unnoticed by Mr. Williams whose own lips curled briefly with amusement.

God! Why is this my life?!. NO!

"Rita, she's fine." Harold said. "We should be going."

"Hmmph," She hummed, still not quite believing she'd gotten it wrong. "I suppose so." She replied, still looking Abbie up and down.

Abbie was still mortified but at least they were leaving. She exhaled a quiet grateful breath and flung her braids back over her shoulder in relief.

"My goodness child, look at all those bruises round' your neck! My God, I knew it!" She turned to Crane. "What have you done to her?"

"Loretta!" Harold exclaimed.

Ichabod's eyes nearly jumped out of his head. "I beg your pardon?" He asked in disbelief.

"Oh Miss Loretta no." Abbie quickly interrupted. "It's not what you think. I, I." Abbie started to lie and tell her she'd started using this new soap and broke out in a rash, but after raising three children she knew the woman had seen enough bruises and rashes to easily tell the difference. It felt like every bone in Abbie's slid out of her and scattered across the floor. She didn't know what was holding her up. The surface of her skin was on fire, and it took everything in her soul to keep her from jumping into another realm.

"Um." She said shakily, and only then did Ichabod come over to rescue her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Williams I can assure you that no harm has nor will come to my wife, by mine nor any other hand." Ichabod gazed down at Abbie. "I'd sooner meet my end than allow something to happen to her."

"I know what it looks like mam, but Ichabod," Loretta scowled at him until Abbie's touch on her shoulder guided her eyes back to hers, "my husband," She added feeling Crane's hand on her back, "He would never, ever hurt me. These aren't bruises." Abbie said carrying the older woman along to the truth with her eyes. She wanted to vomit.

"Oh." Miss Loretta exclaimed, just as she realized what they actually were. "Oh heavens!" She said, palm flying up to cover her open mouth. She now had an appreciation for the sheer embarrassment that Abbie felt.

"Oh, I beg your pardon." She pled wringing her hands together. "I suppose I've become a foolish old woman with too much time on her hands."

"Oh no mam." Abbie said wrapping a hand around hers. "I can't tell you how grateful and appreciative I am that you all came to check on me. It was very brave, and neighborly of you."

"Oh I'm sorry to have disturbed you, we should be going Harold." She turned back to Abbie. "You're still bringing the children by this week to see about piano lessons aren't you?" She asked, worrying she had really overstepped her bounds this time.

"Yes mam." Abbie nodded. "I sure am, they're really looking forward to it."

"Wonderful." She smiled. "Mr. Crane." She nodded in an even tone. At least it was a step up from the way she'd said it the last two occasions he'd bumped into her, when it sounded like she wanted to spit on the pavement after saying it.

"Mrs. Williams." He politely said before turning to her husband. "Mr. Williams."

"Young man." Harold said in a tone that felt like a pat on the back. He extended his hand and met Crane's in a firm handshake. "Alright now, remember I'll have to get you out on the greens one of these days." He said following with an actual pat on the back.

"I eagerly await your invitation." Ichabod grinned. "I warn you I've not played in a number of years, although the last time I swung a club my stroke was, quite proficient." As soon as the words leave Ichabod's mouth the older man heard the irony in them but he was far too gentlemanly to outright laugh. His lips did however bulge and tremble a bit, which seemed to have a similar effect on Ichabod who quickly bowed his head to the floor to hide his distress. All of it stopped when they caught a glimpse of Abbie and Loretta staring at them, Abbie with her hands folded across her chest, while Loretta's hands were stitched to her hips.

"Good day Crane." Harold said with a wink, before turning to nod at Abbie. "Good day Mrs. Crane."

Ichabod lay back in the bed, looking down at Abbie who sat on the bench in front of it, wallowing in self-pity. Her elbows on her knees, head buried in her hands.

"I will never live this down." She slowly uttered.

Ichabod smiled, and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "My name shall reign supreme along these parts for all of time." He said, feeling as though he was laying on top of a cape. Pussy whisperer indeed. He thought, basking in glory when Abbie lobbed one of the throw pillows from the bench toward his head.

"Can you at least pretend like you're not overjoyed about this?" She asked. "Crane!"

"Abbie." He pled, raising to his elbows and trying to ease her mind about it. "Come back to bed."

"No." Abbie mumbled, gently nipping the tip of her thumbnail as she shook her head in despair. "We have to move." She decided. "There is no other legitimate option I can think of. Do you understand I will never look at those people again—our neighbors Crane—without thinking about what just happened."

"Very well, then we'll move. Then will you come back to bed?"

"This is not a joke." She said jumping up and turning to face him.

"Am I joking?"

"Crane." Abbie sighed, seeing very clearly that he wasn't. "I don't want to move. I just…" Her tone softened. "What just happened?" She asked, hands out in front of her like she was holding some giant invisible ball.

Ichabod sat up. "Mrs. Williams, who for some reason suddenly loathes the sight of me, nearly summoned the authorities because you failed to heed my advice."

"Your advice?" Abbie asked, bending forward like that would help her understand better. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Treasure, did I not direct you to keep quiet and take it." He grinned before breaking into silent laughter.

"Oh my God." Abbie whined mortified, holding her hands to her lips in prayer. "Ugh," she screamed in frustration. Ichabod raised his pointer finger.

"That is precisely the sort of outburst that started all of this trouble."

"Come," Ichabod said, pushing himself up from the bed, "Allow me to help you feel better." He added extending his hand. Abbie smirked and backed away, folding her arms in front of her.

"You've done enough, really." She said turning her back to him, only to be confronted with the image of herself in the mirror.

"Good God." She gasped. "Look at my chest, and my neck. Crane! I don't know if you forgot but I have real life little people that I'm responsible for looking after. Do you what little people like to do? Ask questions. They are amazing at it. Everything from how far away is the moon, to how old is the Earth?" Abbie rambled on while Ichabod disrobed and placed his garments on the bench.

"To hey mom is this dental floss? And then Jeremy says, it's a wad of thread, and I have to say, no it's a tampon." Abbie recounted, "Then naturally the next question is what's a tampon?" She closed her eyes, gripping one of her hands with the other, "And you have no idea how many questions come after that." She complained. "If you think I can live in a house with those little people with these marks on my neck, and not be questioned about them, you're kidding yourself." She declared. Ichabod's arms slipped around her, and gathered her up from behind. His hands grabbed hold of hers and pried them apart as he pressed kisses to her face.

"Come here." He whispered, scooping her from the ground with what seemed like no effort at all. Abbie dolloped tiny kisses to his face as her carried her back to bed. The moment her body touched the mattress Ichabod went right to work, tugging her out of the clothes she'd thrown on.

"You needn't worry." He said, comforting her. "I shall be right beside you helping to answer all of their questions from now on."

"You will won't you?" Abbie remembered as she smiled up at him, smoothing his hair with her fingers.
"I will. Now where were we?" He asked, pressing his palm into the mattress as he crawled over her bare frame. "Oh yes." He murmured wetting her lips with his kisses. "You were attempting to abandon me in favor of the lavatory. And I was in the middle of collecting a toll for passage."

Abbie flipped him over and sat on top of him.

"More like I was in the middle of telling you that you can't put a levy on the toilet. You of all people should know that."

"Of course I can, there's a levy upon everything else in this century." He maintained, sliding his palms up her thighs. "I hardly doubt anyone would notice."

"Oh I see." Abbie said. "So you buy a house and then you expect me to pay you with what, sex to use the bathroom." She asked arching an eyebrow, her expression blank enough that he can't readily decide if she's serious or jesting. Abbie watched the quiet alarm grow in his eyes before she offered a small smirk.

"You." He admonished pulling her body over the top of his.

"No you." Abbie shot back, with a kiss. "Do not think for one moment that we're finished with that conversation."

"Are we not?" He responded, palming her rear. "I certainly feel as though we've exhausted it."

"Crane." She warned seriously, prompting him to sit up.

"May I speak with her for a moment?" He asked.

"Babe, seriously." Abbie protested.

"Oh no, no, not Chloe, though discourse with her rates chiefly upon my list of most treasured pastimes." He said, pushing a few of her braids behind her shoulder. "I am rather hoping to engage in discussion with the other Abbie."

"The other Abbie?" She questioned, face showing a mix of confusion and irritation.

"Indeed." He nodded. "The one who just a short while ago stood right over there and full on cried at the thought of me bedding another woman."

Why did he have to take it there?

Ichabod watched her head fall, and reminded himself to proceed carefully. He didn't want to say or do anything that might challenge her, or lead her to prove how strong she was, he already knew.

"The one whose love for me superseded her pride and allowed me to see such frailty." He softly said, placing a few fingers beneath her chin to raise her gaze to his. "The one that you protect." He added in a quiet breath.

"I understand that you're the stronger one, not quite as delicate as she is, the part of you that you struggle so mightily to protect. I left something unsaid earlier that I shouldn't have, and I've no wish to move so far beyond that moment that I lose my nerve. I know you…I believe even better than I know myself. I want you to know always in your heart that by God and all of heaven I will never stray from you…" He promised staring into her eyes, "But for arguments sake, let us pretend I did."

Abbie frowned, and pulled back a bit.

"Pretend," He reiterated, "I said pretend I did." He stroked her face with the backside of his palm. "You would be the one who took her by the hand and walked the two of you out of my life forever. I understand you, I know why it is that you set the rules that you do, why you say the things you say…but I understand her as well. Can you deliver a message for me?" He asked. He knew Abbie heard him, but she didn't respond. When she glanced up and looked him in the eye he knew that was as much of a yes as he could expect to receive from her at the moment.

"I want you to tell her…that I am her husband." He swallowed, eyes glistening with tears. "And that means something to me." He continued steadying his voice. "You see it is my duty to protect her, and I will do whatever is necessary to see that aim met. I want you to tell her that I watch her work harder than anyone I have ever known, day in and day out. And I will not watch her worry over finances."

"Baby"

"Shh," He quiets her, fingertips dusting against her lips. "Especially when in the past a fair amount of those finances have gone to my benefit." Abbie slipped her hands around his neck, while his arms linked behind her back. "Tell her that this house and everything inside of it belongs to her, and will remain such until she wishes to obtain another, at which time she merely needs to point and it will be provided. Tell her everything that is mine is hers, and neither she, nor our children will want for anything. Ask her to allow me to be that for her. Her husband. Her partner. Ask her not to quibble with me over matters of currency." He pleaded leaving a small kiss beneath her lobe before dropping his voice to a whisper. "Tell her we have things of much greater importance to discuss, such as all the ways in which I intend to make her happy for the rest of our lives. Can you tell her that for me?" He said with a soft kiss. "Alright?"

She stared at him through a watery gaze. "You don't have to"

"—Tut-tut" He interjects, inclining a brow. "Alright?"

"Alright." Abbie swallowed. Ichabod sighed, a relief he hadn't felt in a long time washed over him as he nestled his head in the crook of her neck.

"I love you." He murmured, breathing her in a bit before dragging his reddened lips across her neck.

"Ichabod." She said, tone ringing with hope.

"Yes Treasure?" He wheezed, opening his mouth against the underside of her chin and sucking kisses to it.

"What is it my heart?" She heard him ask. She couldn't decide whether she was shivering from fear or the arousal deepening his voice, but she couldn't calm down. More than anything, she wanted to take his hands and place them to her belly, and tell him about the life inside of it, but she's afraid to move and the words seem too big to come out of her mouth.

"I"

Abbie's eyes slipped shut as his mouth closed around her firm nipple. He sucked at it gently for a few seconds, and brought his face to hers.

"I'm listening." He breathed gnawing at her chin. Oh no you're not, she thought feeling the outrageous erection raising the sheet between them.

"I am." He intoned, subtly sliding the fabric separating their skin to the side and letting her feel his velvety flesh.

She knew it didn't matter whether he was listening or not because as soon as she said the words I'm pregnant she would have his full undivided attention. So she couldn't understand why she couldn't say it, but she could not. She knew that she felt complete happiness whenever she thought about the baby, and as excited as she was to share that with him, doing so would also compel her to share things she hadn't yet decided how to share. He would get over Jenny and Frank knowing before him, but he wouldn't be happy about it. Abraham on the other hand, was another issue entirely and things could go unalterably wrong if she didn't divulge this information in the right way. But all of it boiled down to one thing, she was afraid.

"I'm so happy you're home." She sighed, saving the news for a later time.

"As am I my love." He said, slowly rolling their bodies until she settled beneath him. "As am I."

Hours later Abbie awoke suddenly.

"Oh my God!" She yelled, flinging herself upright, and jumping out of bed. "The boys! What was I thinking?" She panicked, stumbling around the room in search of clothes.

"Apple?" Ichabod stated plainly.

"Oh no!" She cringed, ignoring him, already imagining their little faces looking on as all of the other kids at day-camp were picked up by responsible parents. She shimmied into her tights in disbelief she had to leave the house without washing her ass, but it was what it was.

"Fuck!"

"Apple."

"And it's not like it was something that couldn't be helped like work, or I don't know some kind of medical emergency, I was taking a nap. A NAP!" She shouted, wanting to die. She slipped into a t shirt, only to realize she hadn't bothered with putting on a bra. Fuck it everybody's going to be judging me any-damn-way, she decided darting into her closet and returning with tennis shoes.

"Abbie sit down."

"Baby, I don't have time to sit down, I'm late. D has his lesson, J has a visit with—"

Her voice stilled as her alarm kicked on. The one she'd set to go off every day thirty minutes before it was time to embark on the fifteen minute trip to pick of the boys. Ichabod smirked at her from his vantage point on the bed, and reached over to silence the alarm. It's only then that she notices he's fully dressed.

"Oh my God." She exhales, grabbing her heart as the beating slowed down. "I thought it was late, I thought I was late." She said realizing he was supposed to pick them up today anyway. "When did you wake up?" She asked walking over to him. "When did you get dressed?"

"A short bit ago, and after my shower." He grinned, wrapping an arm around her as she took a seat next to him. "Have you been waking this way often?"

Yes

"No…well its…" She sighed, noting that more often than not these days she woke up like the house was on fire. "I guess I haven't really been sleeping that hard. That peacefully." She said, as memories of him sending her into a deep sleep came back. "I don't even remember falling asleep." She sighed, trapping a yawn in her hands.

"I can come with you if you want." She offered, as yet another yawn moved through her and changed her voice. "Just let me hop in the shower."

"At no time is your presence unwelcome at my side," Ichabod said, guiding her head to his chest and placing a kiss on it, "however, I think it will be best for you to stay home and rest, you seem as though you need it."

Abbie pulled her head up and cocked it to the side. "What is that supposed to mean, you sayin' I look tired, like"
"—Abbie." He said shaking his head. "I am simply acknowledging that before you hurled yourself out of the bed you were sleeping quite deeply, snoring, rather loudly."
"I do not snore." She corrected him.

"You were only moments ago." He informed her. "I have stood next to trains passing that were quieter than you just then." He added with pulling her closer, but she nudged him away feigning injury.

That isn't the whole of it, you were drooling as well, in fact," He reached over and tried to touch the dried white spot still glued to her cheek. Abbie whipped her head back.

"I will break all five of those fingers." She said slapping his hand away, fingers instantly reaching up to feel the so-called drool on her cheek. Ichabod pulled his hand back and gripped his chin with a knowing smile.

Oh wait a minute, damn, Abbie inwardly sulked as the pads of her fingers rubbed over the dry saliva stuck to her face.

"I don't think its drool, I think it's"

"—Drool." He happily supplied, leaning forward to open the nightstand drawer.

"I actually hate you." She said, looking over at the smug satisfied look on his face. He kept searching through the drawer.

"Do what you must to make it through the day." He said plainly, brows furrowing at the saltine crackers stashed in the nightstand. He moved past them and pulled a baby wipe from the container.

"Let us have a look." He said settling back into his seat, but twisting his body until he faced her.

"Uh-un." Abbie protested, turning her face.

"Will I have to pin you down?" Ichabod asked.

"You couldn't if you tried."

"Really Lieutenant? I recall doing just that not too long after we first took domicile here." He fondly recalled. "How could I ever forget your poorly executed attempt to behead me with a feather duster?" He smiled, heart melting into pieces as he pulled her into his arms.

"Poorly executed?" Abbie argued, resting her palm across his forehead to check his temp. "Are you well sweetie, because you and I both know I had the drop on you, had that duster been a sword, it would have been over before it began."

"And had I not been such a fool…" He stopped himself, before he told her all of the things he wanted to say and do to her that day, "Well, it worked out in the end." He smiled, pushing her back to the top of the bed and clearing the dried drool from her face. She reached up and gave his beard a soft scratch.

"Yes it did." She said. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with?"

Ichabod growled, fighting to keep himself from dragging her out of the house. "Of course I want you to come with me. But you need rest, and that's more important." He said, wondering how long her energy had been low. He wondered if that was the cause for the crackers, did she need extra fuel. Their presence was curious for a woman who'd raised high hell the few times he'd nibbled on cookies in bed. She'd even gone so far as to get up and change the sheets in the dead of night, citing an aversion to the crumbs against her skin.

"I'm not even tired." She yawned, raising her fists to itch her eyes.

"Naturally." Ichabod deadpanned the moment she reopened them. She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, and almost instantly another yawn struggled free.

"You've been quite active." He said, patting his lap in welcome of her feet. Abbie missed the gesture because she could barely keep her eyes open, so Ichabod simply lifted her legs to his lap and set about removing her shoes.

"Mmph." She hummed when he gave her foot a quick squeeze before raising up just enough to tuck her legs inside of the blanket.

"Sleep." Abbie heard him whisper as his lips touched her forehead.

"Okay…but….don't forget D has his appointment and J has his less—I mean," She paused midsentence bringing her hand to her head as if she could manually unscramble her thoughts.

"I mean J has his appointment and D has his cello lesson." She corrected herself.

"I know what you mean." Ichabod gently said, a soft grin creasing his lips as he gazed down at her, watching her thick lashes slip against her skin. The urge to crawl under the blankets and hold her grew every second he sat there, but he wanted to stay there as long as he could. Just as he stood to leave she jerked awake, eyes flashing open in alarm.

"Don't forget D's cello is downstairs next to the"

"—Door to the laundry." He stated, finishing her sentence, reminding her he'd done this before.

"Okay," She sighed, and it's easier to drop J off first, and then D because by the time D's lesson is over there's usually only about fifteen minutes left in Jeremy's session."

"Abbie." Ichabod growled, bending over her. "Rest, allow me to look after them today." He ordered pushing a cluster of her braids from her face. He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead before dropping his voice to a quiet breath. "Sleep well Apple, I shall endeavor to return home to you shortly."

The corners of her mouth curved upward, as she turned to her side and got settled. A chill slipped through Ichabod's body, and danced around in the pit of his stomach. Nothing made him happier than seeing her happy, and looking at her there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was. He could nearly see the light in her eyes, even though they remained closed.

"Was it something I said?" He breathed, still hunched over her, "Tell me so that I might speak it a thousand times more."

"Home." She groggily sighed, slipping her hand up his neck, as a touch of warmth spread through her. "You said you were coming home."