A/N: So here we are, the final chapter. And it's one very long chapter, possibly my longest I've ever posted, or close to. It's nearly 10 000 words long. No wonder these things take time. I almost split it, but then I didn't because it didn't feel right to. So, hope that works for you. :D

I'm glad you've all forgiven me for killing the Witnesses. It was harsh, but it had to be done. Of course, I went ahead and unkilled them, so that might have something to do with the forgiveness factor. Guess we'll never know for sure though.

So, this last chapter. Hopefully it rounds things out nicely for you all. Lots of talking. Lots of thoughts and feelings to explore. In summary, this chapter, it's full of lots… which is unbearably bad English… but you get my drift, right? Anyways, all worded out from this chapter, so I'll leave it there. Thank you to one and all for playing along with me – it's been fab!

Have fun with it and we'll have a quick chat at the end…

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ichabod sat quietly at the main desk in the archive library, staring unseeingly at the test in front of him. His gaze flicked over to the entrance as Hawley strolled through the door. The other man gave a little start of surprise.

"You're still here."

Ichabod inclined his head. "Indeed."

Hawley looked at him blankly. "Why? Weren't you going home hours ago to eat, sleep and possibly change that shirt?"

"I was, but my attention was drawn towards other matters." Ichabod hoped Hawley would leave it there.

"What other matters?" Hawley walked up to where Ichabod was sitting and turned the book around Ichabod had been studying to read a few lines. "What are you doing? Haven't you had enough reading for today?"

"One can never acquire too much knowledge," hedged Ichabod, not really wanting to talk about what he was doing.

"I disagree. Watching you make out with a statue is definitely a knowledge I could have lived without." Hawley gave a little shudder. "So disturbing."

Ichabod pulled back the book from Hawley, shifting his attention back to it. "Indeed."

"So, what, we're not laughing about all of this yet?"

Ichabod looked up at him. "It has been a scant few hours since the Lieutenant was turned to stone," he said grimly. "And no matter how much time passes, it is hard to imagine ever finding the humor in such a horrific turn of affairs."

"You're a hard guy to shoot the breeze with, Crane," sighed Hawley. "Anyone ever tell you that?" He pulled up a chair and sat down across from Ichabod. "And you still haven't answered my question."

Ichabod's attention was back on the book as he studiously tried to ignore the other man's probing. "What question was that?"

"What are you doing?"

"I am simply reading. There is no mystery to it."

"What are you reading?"

"A book. It has no pictures, so it would be of little interest to you."

"Ouch, no, wait, not ouch, because I don't care what you think of me."

Ichabod suddenly felt guilty for his rudeness. He met Hawley's gaze steadily. "It occurs to me that I have not thanked you for all that you have done for myself and the Lieutenant in the last two days." Ichabod took a deep breath. "Thank you."

"Wow, okay, so you really don't want me to know what you're doing, huh?"

Ichabod frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, you're willing to declare your undying love for me, so it's got to be pretty important." Hawley leaned back in his chair, folding his arms in front of him. "Let's see, what could it be?"

"I thanked you," said Ichabod dourly. "I am uncertain how you were able to extrapolate declarations of love, undying or otherwise, from such a courtesy."

"You thanking me is the equivalent of anyone else offering to have my baby," said Hawley knowingly. "You would only have done that if you're trying to distract me from something you don't want me to know about."

"Or, if I was genuinely thanking you," said Ichabod flatly.

"It's us, Crane, that's pretty unlikely. You still blame me for giving you the potion in the first place, and that's before we get onto your general disdain for my grave digging abilities."

Ichabod sighed heavily. "Can you not take an offer of gratitude with any hint of graciousness?" He shook his head at him. "What are you even doing here?"

"Came for my car keys. They are now the most intact thing about my vehicle."

Ichabod's lips pressed together.

"I think I'm going to go with bear attack when I tell my insurance company about the door, because weirdly enough they don't have a box for me to tick about two hundred year old guys hopped up on the soul of another person ripping off car doors at the hinge." Hawley scratched his cheek. "Which really feels like an oversight on their behalf if you ask me."

"I am sorry for the damage to your vehicle," said Ichabod stiffly. "My lack of control these past few days is not something I take any pride in."

"Another apology. Damn, you really want to distract me from what you're doing, don't you?" Hawley smirked. "Which means I definitely have to find out what it is you're doing now."

"I am doing nothing which would be of interest to you."

"It's about Mills, isn't it? Because of what you found out earlier."

"I have no idea what you are—"

"When you read that last bit of that page and found out that if you two ever lock lips again, you'll both be turned to stone, permanently."

Ichabod stiffened. When discovering there might have been a way to rescue Abbie from her stone imprisonment, Ichabod had not let himself dwell on the last line of the text which warned that if the returning ritual was performed, any further exchanging of breath would result in a permanent reoccurrence of that stone state for both parties. All that had mattered at the time was Abbie could be saved. And she had been. There had been some discussion afterwards in telling her what had happened, but Abbie had left a couple of hours ago in perfect health. It was only once Ichabod was alone with his thoughts that he really had time to consider the prospect of never being able to kiss Abbie again, for fear of killing them both.

It was startling to him how much that realization affected him, considering that prior to the last couple of days, they'd never exchanged so much as a kiss on the cheek. But now they had kissed, far more than just a peck and even while Ichabod still had not the first idea what to do with that knowledge, to know that it could never happen again had created an unrest in him that required action. He should have gone home and slept, but his brain wouldn't let him. Ichabod's insides were churning with the reality of his situation and even admitting that was difficult, because acknowledgement of how upsetting he was finding the possibility of never being able to kiss Abbie again was throwing his world into a tailspin.

"You're looking for a loophole in that 'no more tongue' post script, aren't you?"

Ichabod's hand tightened on the book he was reading.

Hawley laughed. "Nailed it."

"I have no idea what you are referencing," said Ichabod coolly.

"That'd be more convincing if you could unclench something on your body right now," smirked Hawley.

"Why should it matter to me if the Lieutenant and I are unable to—" Ichabod broke off what he was going to say next. "It is a good thing that our relationship will be returning to its original status quo."

"Is that you trying to convince me or yourself?" asked Hawley dryly. "Because I'm not buying it, and I'm pretty sure you're not either." He waved his hands at the books around them. "Hence all this sudden required reading you're doing when you should be unconscious after not having slept for two days."

"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business," said Ichabod hotly, "but if it was, I would tell you that we are both perfectly happy with our working relationship."

Hawley shrugged. "Well, that's great, Crane, and frankly, good news from where I'm sitting."

Ichabod was suddenly wary. "Why is that?"

"Look, I'll admit that I was a bit surprised you put the moves on Mills in that hole."

"I did not put any moves on the Lieutenant," said Ichabod sharply.

"Mainly because that means admitting you're human, and you hate that."

"You think me inhuman?" asked Ichabod in surprise.

"No, I think you think you're inhuman, or above being human, something in that ballpark."

"You think I think I'm better than you?"

Hawley stared at him.

"Very well," backpedaled Ichabod. "There are certainly areas of your life where I do not believe you have any kind of code of honor which might inform your actions—"

Hawley held up his hand. "Crane, please, just stop. You think I'm a self-involved criminal, I think you're a pompous ass. I am totally cool with that. My point is that it actually makes me like you a little better, or hate you a little less, whatever, that when stuck in a hole with a beautiful woman, you did what any other man in their right mind would do."

Ichabod's eyes went wide. "Proximity to a woman, particularly an enforced one, in no way gives any man the right to press his advantage to extract any kind of liberties from her," he declared with real emotion.

"Pft," snorted Hawley. "If any man tried to extract any kind of liberties from Lieutenant Abigail Mills, they'd be looking for a needle and thread to sew their nut sack back on."

Ichabod scowled at him. "Do you have to be so uncouth?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, scrotal sac, does that offend you less?" asked Hawley mockingly. "But once again, you're missing my point, most likely on purpose. You kissed Mills in the hole because you wanted to and she wanted you to. Any other scenario would have seen a lot of bloodshed." He stretched out his legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. "And you don't know what to do with that information any more than you know what to do with the fact doing it again will kill you both."

Hawley's deadly accuracy in pinpointing Ichabod's plight was deeply unsettling and left him with only one recourse. "You are insane and so far from the truth in this matter it is laughable."

"Yeah, I noticed you can't stop with the laughing." Hawley smiled. "So, what, the hole thing was just a blip on the radar and now you're perfectly happy for everything to stay in your asexual Witness holding position deal you've got going on?"

"Perfectly content," said Ichabod resolutely. Saying the words aloud made him realize just how much of a lie they'd become.

"Great, works for me. Don't want to be stepping on any toes when I ask Abbie out."

Ichabod suspected this was a trap, but he couldn't help himself. "Such an undertaking would be nothing but folly."

"Why?"

"I do not have the time nor the inclination to list the number of ways in which such a union would be inadvisable," said Ichabod tightly.

"Just as well Abbie and me aren't asking your opinion then, isn't it?" asked Hawley cheerfully.

"Abbie and I," Ichabod corrected him.

"You just said there is no Abbie and you," said Hawley, willfully misunderstanding him. "And now you've got the Nephesh in both of your systems to make sure it never will." He grinned. "So, all in all, everything has worked out exactly how everyone wanted it to."

"I know what you are attempting to do," said Ichabod darkly.

"What am I attempting to do?"

"Rile me into an unguarded moment whereby I reveal something of my internal machinations to you and your gloating," he bit out.

"I've seen enough of your insides on the outsides in the last couple of days, Crane. I'm not lining up to see more. I just think it's adorable that you think you're fooling anyone with the 'just friends' crap you're trying to sell with you and Abbie. But, like I said, suits me because I think I have a real chance there, given our history."

"Would that be the history of you having a previous romantic entanglement with her sister?" asked Ichabod sweetly. "Because I have always been led to believe women can find such a thing to be less than enticing."

"Jenny and I are cool. We know it wasn't ever going to work out," said Hawley easily. "Abbie and I though, we've got a real spark."

Ichabod was trying not to think about that morning he'd come across a nearly naked Hawley in Abbie's kitchen. She'd said it had been entirely innocent, but Hawley was working hard that Ichabod should infer something different.

Hawley was just looking at him with a half-smile. "Go on, ask me about that morning. You know you want to."

Ichabod looked away sharply, annoyed that he was being so transparent when it came to this matter. "It is none of my business," he said at last. "Unless you undertake to hurt the Lieutenant, then I shall make it my business."

"Okay, but it's a pretty interesting story and that story has a happy ending."

Ichabod steeled himself to keep a neutral expression.

Hawley grimaced. "Damn, I made a pun there at the end, but I don't know if you got it. Do you know what a happy ending is, Crane?"

"You being struck down by lightening in the next ten seconds?" offered up Ichabod straight-faced.

"Sure, that's one kind, but there is another…" Hawley trailed off. "But I don't know how much effort I want to put into this getting under your skin thing. I might have to draw the line at pulling out the year eight anatomy books and circling the rude bits."

Ichabod closed his eyes, shaking his head. "If I thought there was any worth to uncover in your ramblings, I would contemplate trying to understand your meaning, but as I am certain there is none, I am going to end this conversation." He stood up. "I think it is indeed time to retire and recoup."

"Want a lift?"

"No," said Ichabod without hesitation. Being in a combined space with this annoying man was the last thing he wanted.

"Need a lift?" countered Hawley.

Ichabod gave a frustrated grunt, knowing it was a long walk back to his cabin. "Yes," he said begrudgingly.

"Ask nice and I'll let you choose the song I'm going to whistle."

"You're insufferable."

"Near enough, but just for that, no whistling. You don't deserve whistling."

"Does anyone?" asked Ichabod sarcastically.

"Instead, we can talk about where I should take Abbie on our first date."

Hawley was relentless in his needling. "I've changed my mind. I will walk," said Ichabod flatly.

Hawley smirked. "Just admit that it bugs the hell out of you the thought of Abbie and me dating and I'll stop."

Ichabod glared at him. "The thought of you with any woman turns my stomach."

"You think of me with women?" Hawley pulled a face. "That's pretty weird, man."

Ichabod closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "I am leaving now." He started towards the door.

"Alright, fine, I'll stop," said Hawley, following him out.

"No, you won't," said Ichabod in resignation, too tired to fight anymore.

"You're right," said Hawley cheerfully. "I won't."

Ichabod gritted his teeth and kept walking. Maybe he would pass out from exhaustion in Hawley's car. A fellow could only hope.

#

Abbie stepped out of the shower and toweled herself dry. She dressed in her pajamas, feeling the exhaustion of the last couple of days nipping at her heels. Apparently being turned to stone really took it out of a person. There was a lot to process about what had happened in those two days, and Abbie didn't really know where to start. She just knew she couldn't think clearly around Ichabod. A knock at the door distracted Abbie from thinking too much about why that might be. She moved to answer the door, surprised to see Jenny standing there. "Hey."

"Hey," said a frazzled-looking Jenny. "Can I stay here tonight? My landlord just rang me and said a water pipe burst in my apartment and I know have a swimming pool in my living room. I've been driving for the last fourteen hours straight. I can't deal right now."

"Sure." Abbie stepped back to let her sister in. "No problem." She saw the crossbow slung over Jenny's shoulder. "I see you found it."

"Yes, and it wasn't easy," said Jenny flatly. "I don't think I've slept in three days."

"I know the feeling," murmured Abbie as she watched her sister make a beeline for the spare room.

"I'm going to sleep for a week," announced Jenny. She threw a quick glance back over her shoulder to Abbie. "How about you? Anything exciting happen while I was away?" Jenny kept walking into the bedroom even as she asked the question. She didn't sound that invested in the answer to that question.

"Not much," said Abbie as she closed the front door behind them. "Got stuck in a booby trap with Crane, I took a magic potion by mistake, Crane and I made out for a while, before Hawley rescued us and then I got kidnapped by bank robbers. Then I was turned to stone because of the potion. Crane got shot trying to save me and died, but then he came back from the dead because he'd stolen my life force. Finally he turned me back from being stone by kissing me again, and now, if we ever do it again, we'll both be turned into statues."

Jenny was back in the doorway of the spare room, staring at her.

"So that was pretty much it," said Abbie, attempting to sound casual about the whole thing.

"You and Crane made out?" asked Jenny in disbelief.

"Really?" said Abbie in exasperation. "In a story with me being turned to stone and Crane dying and coming back to life, the thing you want to focus on is the kissing?"

"Yes, because that's the most unbelievable part of that story!" exclaimed Jenny. "Damn it, why did you have to be so interesting when all I want to do is sleep?"

"Then sleep," said Abbie defensively. "I'm not stopping you."

"You just told me you and Crane hit first base and expect me not to have questions." Jenny snorted loudly. "Yeah, no, that's not going to happen." She jabbed a finger at the couch. "Sit."

"I'm tired. I was just going to bed."

"Sit," said Jenny sternly. "I have a lot of questions and you're not going to get any sleep until I have answers."

Abbie rolled her eyes, not sure she had that many answers to give. Still, she took a seat on the sofa beside Jenny, because she knew her sister wasn't about to let this go. "I don't want to talk about this right now," she grumbled.

"Yes, you do, otherwise you wouldn't have told me about it in the first place," said Jenny with great certainty. "You would have just said everything was fine and I'd be unconscious by now. Clearly you need to talk about this just as much as I want to hear about it." She nudged Abbie. "So, spill, leave out no detail, no matter how small. Start at the beginning. Why were you and Crane in a hole? What kind of hole was it?"

Abbie sighed heavily, realizing Jenny really did want all the details. There was no escape. So, she told Jenny everything that had happened, from why they were out in the woods that night up to when Jenny had knocked on her door. Abbie recounted everything she remembered and all that Crane and Hawley had told her. When she was done, Jenny was silent for a long moment.

"Well," said Jenny at last, "that's quite a story."

"I know."

"Crane kissed you."

"Again, don't think that is the biggest part of that story."

"Of course it is. It's you and Crane macking on one another. That's obviously the most amazing part of that story."

"No, it isn't," said Abbie in irritation, "and even if it was, it's never going to happen again. It can't."

"And how do you feel about that?"

Abbie attempted a casual shrug. "It's good, makes things easy."

Jenny's expression became openly skeptical. "Really?"

"What?" said Abbie, suddenly nervous with the way her sister was looking at her. "Why did you say it like that?"

"The only way the certain death kiss would make things easy is because you're looking for an out with dealing with the fact you want Crane to kiss you again."

Abbie gave her an unimpressed look. "That's crazy. Why would I want Crane to kiss me again?"

"Well, there's a question for the ages, and one you seem pretty happy you don't have to answer thanks to the aftermath of that potion thing."

"I don't have a problem with what I think about kissing Crane again," said Abbie quickly. "It's a bad idea. It was stupid that it happened in the first place and I'm relieved it's behind us now."

"You sound relieved," said Jenny acerbically.

"I am," said Abbie defensively. "Crane and I could never be together like that. There is too much at stake. Now, it's off the table once and for all, and that's a good thing."

"How was the kiss?" asked Jenny suddenly.

Abbie hesitated. "Wh-what, umm, what do you mean?"

"I mean, how was the kiss, was it good?" She was watching Abbie intently.

Abbie fidgeted on the spot. "I don't know, what's a good kiss?"

"One that makes your toes curl, makes you forget about everything else." Jenny gave a small smirk. "One that gives you lady tingles."

Abbie felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. "There was no tingling." Only there had been, a lot of it, all over her body.

"That blush is telling a different story." Jenny arched a knowing eyebrow. "On a scale of one to ten, rate your lady tingles."

"There were no—"

"This will be over a lot quicker if you just tell the truth." Jenny gave her a pointed look. "You know I'm not going to let this go until I get the whole story out of you. Just give in and this will go a lot easier on you."

"Okay, fine," snapped Abbie. "Of course there was tingling. I'd just poisoned myself with that potion."

"So, what, the potion caused the kissing?"

"Yes, obviously."

Jenny's eyes narrowed. "Crane took the potion too?"

"Um… no."

"But didn't you say he kissed you first?"

"Yes."

"Then why is he kissing you if he didn't take the potion?"

"Maybe the potion aerosoled and he just breathed it in?" Abbie hated how desperate she was sounding.

"Or maybe he just wanted to kiss you?"

"Why would he want to do that?" asked Abbie tightly.

"I don't know, why don't you ask him?"

"Because we're not talking about it." Thank God.

"That's not really a solution to your situation."

"Of course it is," said Abbie uncomfortably. "Crane is British. Those people invented repressing stuff, and I'm totally on board with that."

"You know that what you two did isn't a bad thing, right?"

Abbie scowled at her. "Of course it's a bad thing. Crane is marr—" She stopped abruptly and bit her bottom lip.

"Married?" finished Jenny gently. "Not anymore he isn't."

Abbie shook her head in an attempt to clear it. "That doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything between us."

"It changes the scope of potential between you two," said Jenny knowingly. "Are you telling me you've never considered what Katrina's death might mean for the two of you?"

"No, why would I?" Abbie's lips tightened. "What Crane and I have as Witnesses works. Why would we want to mess with that?"

"That's a good question. You know, for the guy who kissed you."

"I don't want to know why Crane kissed me," said Abbie stubbornly.

"Why not?"

"Because it was just a weird blip in our radar. It doesn't have to mean anything."

"Unless you want it to," said Jenny quickly. "Do you want it to?"

"No," said Abbie immediately.

"That was a quick answer."

"I didn't have to think about it," said Abbie flatly.

"Well, maybe you should."

Abbie looked at her in open disbelief. "You think Crane and I should get together? Become some kind of couple?"

"You two are a couple," said Jenny practically. "The type and scale of that coupling is something that has always had external limits placed on it, and now they're gone and it just comes down to what internal limits the two of you want to impose on yourself. And, I'm sorry, not dealing with the fact that Katrina dying changes things about your relationship with Crane doesn't make it any less true. It just makes you more vulnerable to getting caught off-guard." Jenny lifted one shoulder. "Case in point – hole make out."

"I don't want anything to change between Crane and me," said Abbie emotionally.

"Then you have to tell him that. You two are close, but you're not mind readers. The Witnesses need to be in sync because the world is kind of depending on you two." Jenny's look became sympathetic. "It sucks that is how it is, but what can you do? You two, it's not just you two and whatever decision you make about what the two of you should ultimately be to one another, you have to make it together, otherwise it's not going to work."

"You know what I hate about you?"

"The fact I make so much sense and you don't have a way out from my ruthless logic?" asked Jenny in wry amusement.

Abbie grimaced. "Pretty much."

"Look, you need Crane, he needs you, and the world needs both of you. Figure out what all of that looks like together, because not being together for you two isn't an option."

"Well, it's not going to look romantic, because it can't be," said Abbie with determined pragmatism. "If we kiss again, we will literally die. There is no decision to make."

"Other than how you both feel about that."

"Weren't you tired and going straight to bed to sleep for a week?" asked Abbie in exasperation at Jenny's relentlessness.

"Hey, don't send the messenger to bed without supper just for speaking the truth," said Jenny in amusement. "You and Crane just need to work this all out, and then maybe we can get some real work done around here."

"It's worked out, it's done," said Abbie firmly. "We have no options open to us other than what we already share, and I'm fine with that and I'm sure Crane is too. We don't have time to play the what if game when there is no chance of it ever happening. There are too many other important things that need our attention and we both know that."

"Then if you're both so sure and certain of everything and so happy with the status quo, then I guess you'll both have no problem with the sleeping thing." Jenny gave her a calm smile. "Because you two are both so Zen about your relationship, and how it can't be touched by minor things like human emotions."

"That's right," said Abbie, not willing to back down on this. She couldn't, because she didn't know what giving up ground on this matter would leave her to stand on. Abbie suspected there would be no ground and she'd be back down that hole, and Ichabod couldn't be in that hole with her, because unpredictable things happened in holes which didn't do anyone any good.

"Fantastic." Jenny stood up. "Then I'll let you get back to your sleeping-like-a-baby-because-you've-got-your-whole-life-planned-out thing."

"Yes, I have, and yes, I will," said Abbie defiantly.

Jenny smirked down at her. "Awesome to be you then."

"Yes, it is!" called out Abbie after her as Jenny wandered back into her bedroom. As soon as her sister was behind closed door, Abbie's shoulders slumped. "Awesome to be me," she muttered with a lot less bravado. Determined to prove her sister wrong, Abbie headed for bed herself, feeling more tired than ever. Despite that tiredness though, Abbie lay in her bed long after Jenny's light had gone off, sleep evading her. She couldn't get her brain to shut down and lying there willing yourself to sleep was the single most frustrating thing you could do with your time. Along with knowing your little sister was right and you were wrong. That just added to the general annoyance Abbie was feeling.

She sat up in bed, throwing off her covers. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep tonight at this rate. Perhaps a drive would clear her head, rid herself of those thoughts and questions which were plaguing her and stealing her sleep. Abbie dressed quietly and let herself out of the house, careful not to disturb Jenny, mainly because she didn't need round two of the Spanish Inquisition. She got into her car and just drove aimlessly. There was no place she was intending on going, but when she found herself turning onto a familiar back road Abbie grimaced but didn't turn around. Instead she parked her car a little ways out from Ichabod's cabin and walked the rest of the distance on foot. She didn't want to disturb him with the sound of her car if he was asleep, and hopefully she'd come to her senses with the walking and just turn around.

Abbie walked up the path to Ichabod's cabin, not even sure why she was doing this. There was a single light on in the house, but it was muted. Smoke from the chimney told Abbie that it was most likely from the fireplace. Ichabod was probably asleep. Of course he was asleep. He'd just spent the last two days awake and trying to work out how to save her sorry ass. Abbie's footsteps slowed. She should just let him be. It was crazy to think he'd still be up at two o'clock in the morning even if the last couple of days hadn't happened. It wasn't his problem that she couldn't sleep, even if he was the reason. Still, Abbie found herself continuing up the steps of the cabin and standing on the porch regardless of her inner monologue telling her she was being idiotic and inappropriate. The last thing Ichabod would be looking from her was some kind of late night visit. Abbie had raised her hand to knock on the door to announce her presence, but it hovered there, common sense fighting against whatever the hell this compulsion was to see Ichabod. She closed her eyes, realizing how fraught with danger this whole thing was considering she didn't even know what she wanted to say to Ichabod in the first place. Abbie let her hand drop down by her side. This was stupid, she was being reckless again. Hadn't she learnt her lesson from the last time she did something without thinking? Frustrated at her lack of self-preservation, Abbie turned on her heel and headed quickly down the steps and away from temptation.

"A wise judgement, Lieutenant."

Abbie started at the sound of Ichabod's voice coming from behind her. She whirled around and squinted into the dark.

"I am not at home."

"Crane," she said, peering into the darkness, "where are you?"

"I am here." He moved and Abbie was able to see Ichabod now. He was sitting with his back against the woodpile, long legs stretched out in front of him.

She shook her head at him. "What are you doing sitting here in the dark?"

"It was too nice of a night to be indoors," he said mildly. "As much as I am grateful for the shelter of my cabin, sometimes it is nice to feel nothing between yourself and the heavens."

Abbie walked over to where Ichabod was propped up against the pile of logs. "Aren't you cold?"

Ichabod smiled as he looked up at her. "Not that I have noticed. I tend to feel the heat more so than the cold."

Abbie could believe that. When she'd been stuck in that hole with him, Abbie had been able to feel the heat rolling off of his body. Ichabod definitely ran hot, a thought she wasn't entirely comfortable thinking. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I-ah… I'm sorry to disturb you."

"You're not disturbing me," said Ichabod quietly, still staring up at her.

"It's late," pointed out Abbie. "I should let you get some sleep."

"Or you could tell me what it is that brings you to my door at this hour," he suggested.

"What if I don't know why I'm here?" she asked unsteadily.

Ichabod gave a wry, half-smile. "Then you are in most excellent company, Lieutenant."

Abbie opened her mouth and then closed it again, unsure of what to make of that comment. Did Ichabod mean he didn't know why she was here either, or why he was here in this time and place? Damn it, just when had their relationship gotten so confusing?

"We're being watched," noted Ichabod.

Abbie tensed on instinct, quickly looking around.

Ichabod pointed a finger above her head and her gaze followed where he was pointing. On a branch far above their heads sat an owl with creamy-white under feathers and a mottled, tawny feathers along its wings and back. The creature blinked down at them with large brown eyes.

"It is a Pharaoh eagle owl," observed Ichabod. "And it has taken roost in that long leaf pine tree."

Abbie tilted her head. "I haven't seen that kind of owl around here before."

"That's because its home should be in Africa, not North America."

Abbie's eyebrows went up. "He's a long way from home."

"Very much so."

Abbie looked back at Ichabod. "Is he lost? Gotten off track from some kind of migration?"

Ichabod gave a short shake of his head. "No, these owls do not migrate. Most likely he was a former pet or part of a collection and has managed to escape captivity."

"Oh." Abbie paused. "Will he be alright here?"

"The Pharaoh eagle owl is used to hunting in deserts, so this will be an adaptation for him." Ichabod smiled again as he looked up at the creature. "But nature has always proven itself to be wonderfully flexible when it has to be."

Abbie stared down at him, taking in Ichabod's suddenly wistful expression. "You don't know why you're here, do you? That's what you meant earlier."

Ichabod looked up at her in surprise. "I know why I am here, Lieutenant. I have a call to arms as a Witness, ordained by Fate."

Abbie looked back up at the eagle owl. "But this isn't your home, is it?" That thought made her sad.

"Home is many things throughout a person's life," said Ichabod softly. "When you are a child, it is most likely to be where your parents reside. As you grow into adulthood, it is where you forge your own life, create your own family."

Abbie sat down beside him now. The grass was cool beneath her hands as she propped herself up against the same woodpile Ichabod was leaning on. They were talking in low voices because the night was so quiet and still, to talk at a normal volume would seem almost disrespectful, like the reason you don't talk loudly in a church. Plus, there was something about a conversation in the early hours of the morning which called for it to be conducted in whispers. Conversations after midnight were for the select few, and not to be broadcast to the world. She looked up at him sympathetically. "And now your family is gone."

Ichabod gave a small, pained smile. "I lost my family long ago, Lieutenant." He looked up at the stars above them. "I viewed a program on the television recently whereby the scientists of your time have discovered that light takes so long to travel the vast distances from the stars to our planet, that we still see their glow long after the stars themselves have passed into dust." Ichabod's expression became hard to read. "I have come to understand that is what has happened with Katrina and Jeremy. They passed from my life long ago, but their light continued to shine, making me believe they were still there." He swallowed hard. "Only they weren't. It was a trick of the light."

Abbie couldn't help herself. She wrapped her arm around his and squeezed it tightly. "I'm sorry, Ichabod," she whispered. "I wish things had been different for you and your family."

"I do not think that could ever have been possible, given my destiny," said Ichabod seriously. "Or maybe that is wishful thinking on my behalf, borne of a need to absolve myself of this guilt which hounds me every moment of every day about the fate of my wife and son."

"They made their own choices in this life. Ultimately, we all do. We can point fingers and blame at others, and we can choose to let them effect our actions, or we can choose those actions for ourselves. The point is, the choice lies with each of us." Abbie suddenly realized what she'd just said, and what it meant for the situation she found herself in regarding the man sitting next to her. She gave a little groan, slumping back the neat piles of wood.

"Lieutenant?" asked Ichabod in concern.

She shook her head at him. "Nothing, ignore me."

"An impossible request."

Abbie gave him a sharp look to see Ichabod smiling down at her with a self-deprecating look.

"But thank you for your words of solace to me. I very much appreciate them."

"You're welcome." Her words had made Ichabod feel better, but they'd made her feel anything but. She'd just declared that they all ultimately made their own choices in this world, which meant that she'd chosen to return his kisses in that hole. Abbie wasn't quite ready to accept that, despite Jenny's relentless pursuit of her about that fact. "Kind of on that subject, but not really – in that book you were reading about the Nephesh and how to undo the soul stealing thing, was there—"

"The Nephesh potion does not cause an altering of the senses or urges of the people exposed to it." Ichabod preempted her question. His look was pointed and full of understanding. "What passed between us was entirely due to us, Lieutenant. There was no magical or chemical inducement."

Abbie's shoulders sagged. "Oh." There went that out for her behavior.

"I know, and believe me, I searched very hard for any hint of such an effect."

Abbie wrinkled her nose. "So, that thing down the hole, that was all us, huh?"

Ichabod held her gaze steadily. "It would seem so."

Abbie gnawed on her inner lip. "Why did we do it?" She searched his face for any hint of an answer. "Why would we just kiss like that?"

"Such an excellent question, one I have pondered long and hard," said Ichabod seriously.

"Come up with an answer?" Abbie wasn't sure she was ready to hear his conclusions, but not having her own answer to that question was driving her crazy. At this point she was willing to consider any crazy answer Ichabod could come up with. "What do you think? Some kind of lack of oxygen scenario from being crammed into that hole that way? Or maybe that dirt really was enchanted or something, we never really ruled that out. Or maybe—"

"I wanted to kiss you."

Abbie blinked, taken aback by Ichabod's frankness. "Yes, but why? There had to be some outside reason why it happened. It doesn't make any sense otherwise."

"I have come to the conclusion that a first kiss between a man and a woman is the most nonsensical thing that could ever happen," said Ichabod simply, "and trying to make sense of such a thing is an act of futility."

Abbie frowned. "How is a first kiss nonsensical?"

"Because it flies in the face of all reason. It is impossibly hopeful, and that hopefulness can be based on little more than a look, or a word or simply a moment in time. A first kiss evokes deep magic of a kind that, by its very nature, is not to be understood, but simply experienced."

Abbie hadn't known what she wanted Ichabod to say about those kisses, but this was definitely not what she was expecting. "What does that all mean? For us?" Then she remembered their predicament and her question was a moot one. "Never mind. It doesn't mean anything, not for us, because it can never happen again." Abbie took a deep breath. "Which is a good thing. Because what we do, it's too important to mess up with-with a romantic relationship." This whole conversation had been an unexpectedly emotional one for Abbie, so it felt good to have a hard, cold fact to hang her rationale on. There was no need to really understand that kiss because it couldn't happen again, under pain of death.

"I have found a way to nullify the aftereffects of the Nephesh potion," said Ichabod quietly.

"You have?" Abbie pulled back to look at him in surprise. "How, when?"

"I have been reading around the subject since I last saw you." He grimaced. "It was pointed out by a secondary party that my research on the subject was perhaps carried out a little obsessively. Nonetheless, I did come across a mention of an orb of Thessalonica which is known for its ability to neutralize the aftermath of potions such as the Nephesh. Its current location is reportedly in the Smithsonian, which would mean travel and possibly some afterhours activities regarding the museum, but it is a possibility." Ichabod was back to regarding her steadily. "If that was something we wished to investigate."

Abbie felt the silent question hanging between them. They'd both been gifted with the perfect out for never having to address the potential of a romantic aspect of their relationship ever again. Now, suddenly that was under threat and it was back to them having to choose what they wanted to do about that. Abbie seriously couldn't read Ichabod's feeling on the subject in his expression. She chose her next words very carefully.

"Crane, what we do is so important, so vital. No two other people in the world can do what we can."

"I know."

"We can't screw it up," she said emotionally, voicing a real fear she had. "We've sacrificed so much to even get here. It can't all come to nothing. I won't let it."

Ichabod stared at her for a long moment. "I have not sacrificed anything."

"Yes, you have, of course you have," said Abbie quickly, surprised by his denial. "Look at all you've lost to being a Witness."

"No," said Ichabod sadly, "it was no sacrifice on my behalf because I had it taken from me, it was not my decision. I have lost the possibility of ever reconciling with my father, of being a good husband to my wife, to being a nurturing father to my son. All these possibilities were ripped from me, I had no control over any of them, no voice in their outcome."

Abbie was holding her breath and she didn't know why until Ichabod finished what he was saying.

"This may be wildly selfish of me to say, Lieutenant, but I do not wish to have one more possibility taken from me," he said hoarsely. Ichabod's eyes searched her face. "I do not know what, if anything should or would happen between us again. I do not know what the right thing to do is. I only know that I would very much like to have a voice in the course of my life on this matter, for yet another possibility not to be taken away from me."

"I've just spent this evening being grateful that I don't have a choice," said Abbie faintly.

Ichabod looked quietly sad about that fact. "Then we are at odds on this matter." He looked away.

Abbie swallowed hard. "What I meant to say was that I've just spent the last few hours telling myself that I'm happy the Nephesh took away any free will we had about-about—" She cleared her throat nervously. "You know."

Ichabod was back to regarding her unblinkingly. "I know."

"I-I have this problem, where sometimes I make myself feel what I know I should be feeling because it's the right thing to do, not necessarily because that's the way I feel. I don't let myself consider any other option because I need to do the right thing, all the time. It's like a compulsion."

Ichabod half-smiled. "Some would argue a noble one."

"Maybe, but sometimes it ends up with me having this disconnect between my thoughts and feelings."

Ichabod titled his head. "You feel a disconnect between those two things in regards to me?"

"Crane, ever since I've known you, you've been married, in love with another woman. There was no way I would ever have—"

"Of course you wouldn't," he interrupted her. "Any more than I would have."

"Which was fine. It was good, I was happy with how we were together."

"As was I," said Ichabod softly.

"But then… now—"

"Yes, now."

They stared at one another.

"Now I am without a wife, but—"

"She's not gone from your life," finished off Abbie quietly. "I know that, Crane. I can see that, and I wouldn't expect it to be any other way. You wouldn't be who you are if it was." Abbie knew feelings didn't just dissipate. She knew Ichabod still struggled with his guilt over Katrina and the loss of the future he'd always dreamed of having with her.

"May I ask you a question I have no earthly right to ask of you?"

They were still holding each other's gaze unflinchingly. "Yes," she whispered.

"Do you have romantic feelings for Hawley?"

Abbie blinked rapidly, not having expected that. "Seriously, Hawley again? Is this still about that morning? I told you nothing happened. Why won't you believe me?"

Ichabod looked away abruptly. "Above all else I desire honesty between us, Lieutenant, no matter if it might offend or cause temporary ill-ease."

"I'm being honest with you, Crane. You just don't seem to want to believe me for some reason." She made an exasperated noise. "You want to know what happened that morning, my word isn't good enough for you? Fine. Hawley was at my place really early that morning because he was heading out of town on some kind of job. He stopped at my place to pick up a gun Jenny had left with me, because apparently Hawley needs a lot of hardware to do his 'job'. Anyways, I was already up, because I'd heard this mewing sound coming from somewhere in my house. I'd been looking all over because I could tell it was cat in distress which must have gotten itself trapped somewhere. I finally found it in a heating vent but it'd backed itself into a corner and I couldn't reach it. That's when Hawley turned up. He could reach the cat because his arms are so much longer than mine, but the cat didn't really appreciate the gesture and scratched his chest up pretty good before heading back to next door where it lives."

"Kitty likes to scratch," murmured Ichabod. "A surprisingly truthful declaration from our Mr. Hawley."

Abbie gave him an odd look for that statement. "Yeah, well, he got blood all over his shirt and as he was on his way out of town, I got him to give it to me so I could clean it. That's why Hawley was in my house without a shirt on." Her look was disapproving. "Happy now?"

"Forgive my impertinence in needing to know the story in its entirety, Lieutenant," said Ichabod stiffly.

"I can forgive it if I could understand it," said Abbie in frustration.

A flicker of pain passed over Ichabod's face. "From the very beginning of my relationship with Katrina, she lied to me. I believe it was initially to protect me, but then it was to protect herself and then finally, those lies became a wall between us and led to her ultimately turning on me, on our union. I lost my wife long before she died in my arms, and the lies between us were the beginning of the end for our relationship."

"Crane, I'm not Katrina," said Abbie in shock. "I'm not lying to you."

"I did not believe Katrina to be lying to me either, but it became evident that she was." Ichabod's expression was strained. "I have always prided myself on being able to see through pretense and strike at the very heart of the matters going on around me, but when it comes to those I hold closest to my heart, it seems I must acknowledge a blind spot, where my wits are not to be trusted."

"You can trust me, Ichabod," said Abbie firmly. "Tell me you know that."

"I do," said Ichabod huskily. "It is trust in myself that I lack."

"Well, you shouldn't, because I trust you implicitly."

"Such a thing might be considered folly given my many past missteps," said Ichabod sadly.

"Trusting someone isn't about them never getting anything wrong, it's about understanding why they're doing something, even if you don't agree with it. I know you, Crane, and I believe in that man I know, and I hope you feel the same way about me."

"Immeasurably so," said Ichabod emotionally. His eyes drifted from her eyes to her lips and Abbie knew what he was thinking because she was thinking the same thing.

Kiss me.

Kiss me and stop all this confusion, take away all the uncertainty with the feeling of your lips on mine, because I stop thinking then as well, and it's just the two of us and nothing is hard or impossible. But they couldn't lose themselves like that, and both realized the danger at the same time, abruptly looking away from each other and staring straight ahead.

"Crane," said Abbie unevenly, "how I feel about this-this possibility between us—"

"Yes," said Ichabod swiftly, both of them still looking determinedly ahead.

"I lose everyone I love," said Abbie painfully. "My parents, Corbin, Jenny—"

"Miss Jenny was returned to you."

"Because of you," said Abbie unsteadily. "Without you, Jenny wouldn't be in my life. Without you, I don't even know what my life would look like." Both of their hands were palms down by their sides as they sat there together. In their conversation, Ichabod's little finger had come to rest against Abbie's little finger as they talked. It was the smallest and most accidental of touches, but one Abbie was vividly aware of. She wondered if Ichabod was taking as much notice of the small intimacy as she was.

"I also share a similar bewilderment at a life which does not contain you," said Ichabod huskily.

"And if we go and find this cure for our, um, issue, and we decide that we want to, you know, and it all goes horribly wrong, because let's face it, neither one of us has the best history in the whole romance department, then I don't know what I'd do." Abbie couldn't look at Ichabod now. "I-I need you, Crane." It was so hard for her to say those words because Abbie was at pains to remain as independent as possible in this life, because relying on people only ended badly, but it was a truth she couldn't escape any longer.

"And you have me, Abbie," said Ichabod in a low voice. His little finger moved and placed itself on top of her little fingers, entwining the two digits together. "As broken and uncertain as this man sitting beside you is, you have all of him, unreservedly so."

Abbie felt tears prick her eyes at how heartfelt Ichabod's assertion sounded. She really couldn't look at him now, scared at how vulnerable she felt in that moment. Ichabod leant in and she felt him press his lips against her temple. Abbie closed her eyes and leaned into the comforting touch. "I-I want choices in my life," she confessed brokenly, realizing she was the same as Ichabod after all. So much had been taken from her without her being able to make any choice in that loss. That happened in everyone's life, but could she really walk away from something which would result in losing one more choice in her life? Abbie realized it wasn't in her nature to give up anything. She was a fighter, and even if that instinct took her into uncertain or new terrain, she knew she couldn't shy away from that reality. "There is too much that has happened to me and will happen to me I don't have a say in. I don't want this to be one of those things." It was a truly terrifying admission on her behalf.

"Whatever happens, no matter what passes between us," said Ichabod softly, his lips brushing her temple as he spoke. "You will have me. This is my vow to you and I will never break it."

"Unless you die," she whispered fearfully, acknowledging how much that would devastate her now.

"Even unto death and beyond, you have me, Lieutenant. Our bond will never be broken, because at our very core, we are eternal creatures. Eternity, by its very definition, has no end and either shall what we share."

Ichabod sounded so incredibly certain about what he was saying, it was hard for Abbie not to believe him. "Crane, if we do this, if we find this orb and undo the effects of the Nephesh, I don't know what I can promise you, if I'll ever be ready or able to change how things are between us."

Ichabod drew back, resting back against the woodpile once more, but their fingers remained entwined. "The only promise I would covet from you is that you will not forsake me, no matter how much of a pompous ass I might be at any given moment."

Abbie looked up at him to see a little smile dancing around Ichabod's lips.

"Anything beyond that fondest hope I would deem an extravagance beyond realistic expectation."

Abbie couldn't help but give a little laugh at Ichabod's open self-deprecation. "There had to be an easier way to say that."

"If you have understood my meaning well enough, an argument may be made that an alternative way to state my feelings would be indeed redundant." His look was teasing. "Are we in agreement on this matter?"

"About me not forsaking you?"

"Yes."

Beneath the light tone Ichabod was trying to maintain, she heard the seriousness in his response. "I won't forsake you," said Abbie sincerely, an answer which gifted her with a look of relief from Ichabod. "And just for the record, you're not always a pompous ass, Crane," she teased him. "Sometimes you are just an ass."

Ichabod clutched at his chest with mock relief. "Ah, thank you so for your leniency on this matter, Lieutenant. I am most thankful."

She shook her head at his theatrics, grateful for his playfulness easing the tension she'd been feeling. Which Abbie was pretty certain had been Ichabod's intention. Abbie unconsciously licked her lips, suddenly nervous again. "So, we're doing this then?" She blinked. "I mean, finding the orb," said Abbie hastily. "Just finding the orb and undoing the stone curse thing?"

Ichabod nodded slowly, eyes holding hers once more. "I believe we are."

Abbie felt her stomach knot up in sudden nerves. "What are we doing?" she groaned. "Is this a bad idea?"

"We are allowing possibilities into our lives," said Ichabod simply. "Possibilities that do not have to be acted upon, but are precious nonetheless, just because they exist at all."

"That sounds less daunting."

"As was my intention. There is such a thing as overthinking some things."

"Jenny thinks we've been underthinking this whole thing between us."

Ichabod grimaced. "As does Hawley. I was happy to dismiss his opinion, but Miss Jenny… well, I hold her in far higher esteem."

"I guess they can't both be wrong," said Abbie unhappily. "But maybe this isn't going to be a disaster if we don't under or over think this whole thing… just, you know, think it." She wrinkled her nose. "Which doesn't sound right either."

"Whatever the way forward is, we will traverse it together," said Ichabod easily. "On a night such as this, with such clear skies and in the most excellent company of friends, old—" he inclined his head towards Abbie, "and new—" Ichabod was now nodding towards the eagle owl still regarding them steadily high above their heads. "I find a deep contentment in that knowledge, and look for nothing further to still the formally frantic machination of my thoughts in this matter."

"Again, there just had to be an easier way to say that."

Ichabod just smiled. "You take my meaning well enough, and that is all that matters."

He was right and Abbie did feel better all of a sudden. They'd made a decision together about what to do next, and even though neither one of them had the first idea what the future might hold for them, knowing they would be facing it together, no matter what, was a very soothing thought.

"I should go," said Abbie idly, looking up at the stars with Ichabod. "Let you get some sleep."

"Sit with me for a few minutes longer," said Ichabod huskily. His hand curled around hers, enveloping her in its warmth. "There will always be time for sleep, but there will not always be perfect skies to be marveled over."

Abbie settled back against the woodpile. "Can't argue with that I suppose." Or mores to the point, didn't want to. Everything had gone from impossibly complicated to wonderfully simple between them within a few moments of honest conversation. Abbie didn't want to break this newfound serenity between them.

Ichabod threaded his fingers through hers, eyes on the heavens. "Perfection, is it not?" he whispered to her.

Abbie looked at him. "I don't know if anything can be perfect," she said softly. Ichabod met her gaze. "But this feels pretty damn close."

A slow smile spread across Ichabod's face. "It does indeed, doesn't it?" He lifted her hand to his chest and pressed his other hand over their entwined fingers, attention shifting back to the stars above them. "Infinitely close to perfection."

Abbie couldn't remember the last time she'd just held a man's hand in silence. It was a long time ago, if it had ever happened at all. But this moment she knew she'd always remember, the surprising intimacy contained within the simplicity of it all. Abbie rested her head on Ichabod's shoulder, infinitely glad from the few moments respite from the confusion and flurry of their lives, and grateful she was able to enjoy that respite with the man who'd become her best friend without her even realizing it.

"All will be well between us, Lieutenant." Ichabod lent his cheek onto the top of her head. "Come what may."

"I know," said Abbie and in that moment she really did know that as a truth in her life and everything made sense in her life again.

There was no better feeling in the world to have found a real partner to walk through this life together… come what may…

A/N: And there we have it… the end? I mean, I could obviously write them retrieving the orb and what Ichabbie decide to do with their choices, but I kind of like leaving it there for people to make up their own minds if and when they might take their relationship to the next level. Besides, my promises of sequels in this fandom have not gone too well in the past. This whole, supposedly two chapter fic was to make up for that. Nearly 50 000 words later, I still feel guilty about that. So, I'll be making no promises in regards to this story. Nonetheless, I hope you had fun with this little tale. I did have fun writing it. Thanks so much for reading and maybe I'll see you in another SH tale if I ever write one. :D