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Content wasn't a word Abbie generally had use for. She'd always had something lurking, whether it be secrets, guilt or a Headless Horseman trying to kill her and bring on the end of days. But Sleepy Hollow had been quiet for the past three days. Once she convinced herself, and Crane, to edge off of high alert, they'd begun to relax.

She still had normal duties at the station, of course, which was why her partner was loitering in her living room at the moment. After particularly long days, she managed to get him to sleep in her guest room to avoid the long drive out to Corbin's old cabin. He put up a helluva fight about it the first time she suggested it, as she'd anticipated, but he warmed to the idea quickly. Abbie suspected he enjoyed sharing a space with someone as much as she did, especially considering the nightmare monsters and demons who were keen on them. She'd admit (only to herself and never to him) that she sometimes used the excuse to keep an eye on him, when she thought he was having a particularly hard time dealing with the present day "nonsense" or his wife's tendency toward secrecy.

Today was just a good old-fashioned long day, and she'd just had a hot shower and was listening to Crane quietly shuffling through her meager DVD collection in the living room. Abbie had donned her flannel shorts and a camisole and had opened the bathroom door to let the steam out when Crane came into the doorway. He was holding a DVD in his hand, inspecting it with suspicion. He'd shed his coat and boots and looked rather naked in his stocking feet with his shirtsleeves rolled up. It was a good look.

Abbie had one foot up on the counter and was slathering cocoa butter on her legs. She fought back a wicked grin and waited for him to notice her state of 'undress,' as he liked to call it.

"Miss Mills, how on earth is an entire-oh dear!" he exclaimed. Crane spun around, heat rising to his cheeks. Abbie looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of his blush. She knew just the expression he'd be wearing, but it was just too adorable to miss.

"I beg your pardon, Leftenant, I had no idea you were-" he struggled to find a word that wouldn't make her snicker or him blush deeper, as he stared steadfastly at the hallway wall. He cursed the perfect clarity of his memory, already knowing that the image of Miss Mills' bare, delicate foot hitched up on the counter, her shapely naked legs and smooth, strong arms bared to him, would be immortalized forever.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Crane, I'm perfectly decent!" Abbie exclaimed, in that half exasperated, half amused tone she so often used with him. "I'm not going to dress like a nun in my own home to appease your delicate sensibilities, so you might as well get used to it," she stated, still unable to keep the smile from her voice. If she was perfectly honest, she enjoyed shocking him perhaps a little too much, but it was such a trip to know a guy who'd rather poke his eye out than look at her thighs and violate her honor.

Crane reluctantly turned around and resolutely looked her in the eye. She grinned and he arched a brow at her obvious pleasure. "Yes, well, it is your home as you say."

Abbie continued rubbing the lotion into her legs, from her ankle over her calf up to her thigh. Crane's eyes flicked down to her hands, causing a new rush of pink to dot his cheeks, then he turned away again.

"Well I'll just be..." he trailed off, intending to awkwardly abandon whatever initial question he'd had for her, but lingered. "What on earth is that cream you're applying? Are you well?" he asked, turning to her again, his insatiable curiosity getting the better of him.

"It's lotion," Abbie explained. There were times when her patience with being his guide to the 21st century ran out, since he asked questions about absolutely everything. But there were also times she delighted in seeing his reactions to new innovations. "It hydrates your skin. I suppose it must've been a luxury in your time. I bought you some with the other toiletries."

He looked abashed. "Ah, yes. I must admit, my experimentation with the...gelatinous liquids was limited."

"Here," Abbie said, putting her foot back onto the tiled floor and turning to him, holding out her hands. Crane looked from her hands to her face, the question clear in his bright blue eyes. "Put your hands out," Abbie directed. He tucked the forgotten DVD under one arm and complied immediately, mirroring her palm-up position. She slid her palms across his, then took his hands one at a time in her own and rubbed the excess lotion from her hands into his. Abbie studiously avoided noticing how large his hands were, especially in comparison to her own, and how long and deft his fingers were.

"There," she said, stepping back even further out of his space and rubbing her hands together, although all of the lotion was already gone from them. She felt a little bit cornered all of a sudden.

"Is that lavender?" he asked, cupping his palms around his nose. He recognized the scent that drifted from her when he leaned too close over her shoulder or reached around her to open a door. It was stronger on his hands, and missing the spicy scent it somehow attained when gracing his partner's skin.

Abbie nodded and squeezed more of the cream from a bottle into her palm and hitched her other foot up onto the counter, determined not to lose her indifference.

Crane cleared his throat, "Thank you for the...luxury. Would you like some tea?" he asked brightly.

"Please," Abbie replied and Crane dipped his head in a mini-bow and strode back toward the kitchen.

He spent the rest of the night stopping himself from raising his hands to his face to inhale the scent, and drifted to sleep that night dreaming of other ways he could achieve Abbie's scent on his person.