Chapter Text
Abbie POV
“What’s this?”
Crane plucked the shiny envelope from the stack of office papers on my desk.
"Oh that… that was for my high school reunion. Ugh."
"May I read it?"
"Help yourself."
I sneaked a glance from my scintillating case report on yet another drunk and disorderly at the local college to watch as his blue eyes raced over the page. How could anyone read that fast?
"The event is this evening, is it not?"
"Is it?"
Crane’s fingertips brushed feather-light against mine as he passed me the invitation.
"Hmm. Yep, it's tonight. Too bad." I tossed the paper toward the wastebasket, only to have Crane pluck it from the air.
"You do not propose to miss this event, surely. I noted the ticket price was $30, which is a great sum. Also, there will be a buffet and door prizes. The evening sounds very lavish indeed."
Where to even start? "Crane… high school was not the high point of my life, to put it mildly. For some idiotic reason, I let Andy talk me into going to this stupid reunion. Also, it's at the Holiday Inn by the interstate so I promise lavish isn't even on the menu."
Crane leaned toward me. "May I ask a personal question, lieutenant?"
The room suddenly seemed very warm. "Of course." Did I make that sound casual enough?
"Can you name for me the last time you did something of an evening besides read dusty books about religious prophecy or watch Law and Order?"
Ugh. He had me, there."Um... I also watch Ancient Aliens when they have stuff on Nostradamus’ prophecies. And how did you know I like Law and Order?"
"One observes." Crane raised an eyebrow. "In case it makes a difference, you need not attend alone; I would be honored to accompany you."
Did Crane just ask me out? I felt flustered and the room seemed to grow even warmer.
"I promise it won't be fun. There'll be mystery meatballs on little toothpick things and a DJ playing a bunch of songs that were hits 10 years ago. If we're lucky maybe our car will even be broken into in the parking lot." I busied myself straightening the stacks of paper on my desk, keeping my eyes down and away from Crane's.
I reached for another stack of paper (which I had already straightened) to find Crane’s hand holding it in place.
"If it is as awful as your prediction, we can leave and return to the musty books and television. But, I must confess, I am intrigued by - what did you call them - mystery meatballs? I believe I may have sampled these in military camp and wish to refresh my memory of whether they are as vile as recollection depicts them."
Was he joking? I glanced up at Crane to see him smiling back.
"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
I forced my eyes from Crane's handsome face to his shirt and jacket... the ones that had lain in a hole in the dirt for 2 centuries then were worn every day for several more months, and occasionally clawed by demons.
"Just to blend in, you might want to consider wearing the clothes I got you awhile back."
Crane nodded. "I shall take it under advisement."
***
"Pray come in, Ms. Mills."
Crane bowed slightly as I entered the cabin.
It was neat as always, but the light was dim. "How can you find anything here, you keep it so dark?"
"Tis what we were accustomed to, I suppose. That ensemble is very becoming. Is it new?”
I wore a black pants suit and simple silk blouse that I’d bought on the clearance rack at a fancy store in the city. One of the perks of being small is that there’s always plenty on sale.
Crane stepped into the lamplight. It was the first time I had seen him in modern clothing and it was... "Hot."
Dammit! Did I say that out loud?
"Hot, um, in here. Is it?" My face felt like it was on fire and I figured I was probably sweating.
Months ago, I’d picked out a simple blue button down shirt, jeans, and shoes at Target. He'd thanked me very elegantly and never said another word about the clothing or worn it. I assumed they didn’t fit or (more likely) he hated them but didn't want to hurt my feelings.
Now here he was, looking like he’d just stepped out of Vogue. And I could attest that everything fit perfectly. The jeans, especially. Oh my.
"Just really warm in here. Getting a glass of water."
I walked quickly to the sink, taking a quick glance at the rear view which was... better than I'd even hoped (and, truth be told, I'd had some thoughts on the matter.
I held the now-empty water glass to my forehead and closed my eyes, willing myself to think about baseball, departmental reports, anything but Crane’s ass.
I opened her eyes to find him looming over me.
"Are you well, lieutenant. You look a bit unsettled. And the temperature in here is quite cool."
I just wasn't expecting you to look this hot. "I'm OK Crane, thanks. You look nice. Do I recognize that outfit?"
"Indeed. These are the ones you kindly bestowed upon me from the curiously-named Target marketplace. Speaking of which, may I request your expert opinion as to whether a tie is appropriate?" He held out the tie I’d purchased with the rest of the outfit. (I guess I was thinking we might meet up with some business-casual hellspawn.)
I reformed Luke from a clip-on guy, so I know how to tie a tie. For example, I’d start by helping Crane thread the silky slip of fabric beneath his collar, his beard brushing my fingertips as I did so. I would need to stand very close to him as I made the knot.
Would his blue eyes look at me with their usual curiosity and amusement or ... something more. His breath would feel cool against my hands as I slid the knot against his collar, his long fingers catching mine as I started to draw away. His other hand would softly brush my cheek as his face inclined toward me, his lips slightly parted and…
"Ms. Mills are you certain you are not feverish. You are behaving oddly. Perhaps you are in need of leeches? The value of leeches cannot be overstated. It will take but a moment to obtain a bucket of large and slimy specimens from the pond."
I placed the water glass into the sink. "NO leeches. Ugh." I shivered. "No tie, either. Way too fancy for this place. Let’s get going."
***
The girls taking the tickets looked familiar. I remembered them shaking their pom poms at some pep rally or other, back in high school. They both fawned over Crane, the blonde leaning over as he wrote his name tag so her boobs were practically in his face.
I peeked into the ballroom. A bunch of people were standing around, a few swaying to, please God no, Hips Don't Lie. I prayed Crane didn’t ask me to explain the lyrics.
With a sinking feeling, I recognized a group of girls who'd been awful to me in high school. One of them pointed toward the doorway and the whole group turned to look, then burst out laughing. My stomach flip flopped as I remembered their taunts about my tattered clothing and crazy sister and the rumors about what happened to us in the woods.
Gah! Why had I come here? I curled my hands into fists.
The best thing to do would be to tell Crane I felt sick and needed to go. If we left in the next few minutes I could be curling up on my couch in time for the second rerun of Criminal Intent.
"Miss Mills, what is this?" Crane pointed to a sign by the door about door prizes.
"The first prize is a stereo,” I said. “It’s like the radio you have at the cabin, but the sound is better.”
Obviously, we needed to stay for the drawing. Crane listened to the radio all the time, despite its tinny sound. He would love something that sounded decent. Maybe we could sneak into the bar in the lobby to kill some time until the drawing…
"Abbie?"
I turned toward the voice I never wanted to hear again. Tim: my very, very ex- boyfriend who left me to be arrested.
"Wow, Tim. Long time no see. "
He blatantly looked at my body, his eyes lingering on my breasts. I crossed my arms tightly.
"Got some new tattoos, I see."
"Yeah, I got a few." Tim sniffed. "What's this I hear about you being a cop now? I need a character witness at my pretrial hearing next week and you'd be OK."
"That sounds incredibly fun, Tim, but unfortunately my fiancé and I will be in the Hamptons all that week, won't we dear?" I looked up at Crane willing my mind to communicate with his: please play along.
Crane raised an eyebrow, then smiled at as he put his arm lightly across my shoulder.
"Of course, dearest. Mother is beside herself to see you again. And this time we’re going to try father’s secret fishing spot." He held out a hand toward Tim. "Ichabod Crane. And you are?"
Tim looked at the hand like it was crawling with bugs then pointedly sloshed his drink onto Crane’s sleeve. "Whoops. Go have mother clean that while the grown folks talk." He smirked.
My mind went blank. What the hell should I do? The last thing I wanted was for Crane to fight a duel for me or something and get hurt because of my stupidity in coming here. I gave Crane a small smile and mouthed, "it's ok, go."
Crane frowned at Tim, pointedly shouldering the shorter man aside as he went past, toward the restroom.
Tim watched him leave, then laughed. "Got that one whipped don't ya?" He turned back toward me taking a step forward as I reflexively stepped back. Tim put his arm out, trapping me against the wall.
"Now see here, I was dead serious about you speaking at my pretrial. Seeing as you're a cop and I got priors, you might actually be of use, for once. If you do a good enough job, I might not tell Andre the Giant, there, what a freak you used to be in the sack." He reached toward me, toying with the lock of my hair resting on my shoulder, then whispered, "might need you to give me another demonstration of that, for old time’s sake, too."
I kept expecting to go into cop mode, anticipating the moment when I would start barking commands in my Voice of Municipal Authority as I ordered Tim to back the hell off. Instead it was like I couldn't breathe. Or I had to remind herself to breathe because I felt like I had stepped outside I body and was observing the scene with Tim we were actors in a play. "Why doesn't she do something?" I wondered of the pitiful girl with her back against the wall.
***
Crane POV
To explain what happened, I preface my statement by telling you my firm and certain knowledge that Ms. Mills is the most courageous and honorable woman I have ever known.
When I returned, I saw the miscreant leaning over Ms. Mills. Her eyes were huge and fearful as she seemed to shrink from him. For these circumstances to occur while the brave Lieutenant stood idly by, I knew something must be very wrong indeed. In light of the events of the past few months, I beg your understanding of my immediate and violent actions.
Grabbing the miscreant's arm, I twisted backward and up until I heard the distinct popping sound of the humerus separating from the scapula. He emitted a whining sound, like the cur he was. (I am insulting canines, here.)
"Whilst I was away, I telephoned your parole officer. I suggest you depart before she arrives." I gave his arm a brief further twist, then shoved him from me.
For a moment, I thought he would fall, as he staggered to remain upright, then winced as he relocated his shoulder.
"You're bluffing!" He shouted.
I noticed others around us turning to watch the interesting scene. I shrugged. "Of course I am. By all means, stay to see whose word the officer believes - yours or that of a highly esteemed officer of the law, such as Lieutenant Mills."
The criminal looked back and forth between myself and Ms. Mills (who still appeared a bit shaken). After braying a profanity that I shall not repeat, he ran down the hall, toward the lobby.
I turned back to the lieutenant. "Ms. Mills, please accept my humblest apologies. Are you well? Please also forgive me if I overstepped myself."
She smiled and touched my sleeve. "Thank you, Crane. I'm fine now."
"Are you certain? If you would prefer to leave, I can perfectly understand."
"I’m OK. It was just weird. I kept expecting the cop instincts to kick in, but they didn't." Her brow furrowed. "And thanks for playing along with the fiancé thing. I was hoping Tim would take the hint and leave."
"Are you suggesting our nuptials are now cancelled, lieutenant? How shall I bear this emotional torment?"
"Hmm... would mystery meat help? We should probably check out the buffet before everything’s gone.”
***
Abbie POV
The buffet was on the other side of the ballroom, so we cut across the dance floor. The tables were in front of a floor-to-ceiling window with a magnificent sweeping view of the highway on-ramp and the Tim Hortons next door.
I peeked under one of the lids of the buffet dishes. "Mystery meatballs in weird brownish sauce. He you go, Crane." I spooned one out and passed him the tiny plate.
Crane took a hesitant nibble and made a face. "I believe the supply wagons had something like this during the Philadelphia campaign. "
He paused to listen for a moment as the DJ started another song. "I wasn't sure what that noise was before - it sounded like a housecat in torment -- but might this be actual music?"
"Good ear. This is Come Away with Me. The singer is Nora Jones. She's had a bunch of hits now but this is the song that made her a star."
"She has an unusual voice."
We both stood there a moment, Crane nodding slightly with the music and me working up my nerve.
"WouldYouLiketoDance?" I said it quickly, daring a quick glance at his eyes.
He looked surprised and happy. "I should like nothing better."
He took my sweaty hand in his cool one and we walked onto the dance floor.
I stepped toward him and put my hand on his shoulder as he placed his fingertips softly on my mid-back. Because I'm short, we had to stand very close.
He seemed to be waiting for me to start, so I began with the basic move-your-feet-in-a-clockwise-circle move and he followed me perfectly.
I was sort of trying not to notice this but Crane also smelled really, really good. I hadn’t a clue what fragrance it was, but it was a clean, vaguely spicy, masculine smell. (Sure as hell wasn’t Axe, like Luke used to douse himself in.)
I discovered I had stepped closer, Crane's beard now brushed against my hair. I shivered as I felt the palm of his hand warm against my back.
My brain seemed to be turning to mush, but I finally remembered what I meant to ask.
"So how did you know Tim had a parole officer."
He chuckled. "He seemed the type so I guessed."
“How did you know the officer was a woman?”
“The parole officers in your department, Ms. Sylvia and Ms. Tiffany, are both females. Women also seem to predominate in this occupation on Court TV. Hence, my guess.”
Something else we had in common. "So you like judicial shows, too, huh? Ever seen Law and Order? It's another show like that."
He shook his head. "I do not believe I have had the pleasure."
"You should come over and watch sometime. I bet I can get you as hooked on it as I am."
He swallowed and didn't say anything for a minute. Dammit! Had that been too forward?
I watched his lips as he spoke, "Was that an invitation, Lieutenant?"
"If you want it to be?"
"Then it is."
I felt light-headed, but in a good way, for a change. Did I just screw up our working relationship? Probably, but at the moment I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I rested my cheek against Crane’s shoulder and whispered the lyrics as Nora sang them,
"While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me."
Of course, the next song was the UNcensored version of Magic Stick. Before Crane could ask about the lyrics, I suggested we visit the bar to wait for the stereo door prize drawing. Crane continued to hold my hand as we walked off the dance floor back toward the lobby.
Just then, I felt a someone touch my elbow.
"Abbie?"
I turned to see who was speaking and immediately broke into a grin. "Darlene!"
***
Crane POV
"Crane, I'd like you to meet Darlene Miller. Thanks to alphabetical seating, we sat next to each other for most of high school. Darlene, this is Ichabod Crane. We work together at the sheriff’s office."
The blonde woman put out her hand and offered a genuine smile, which I gladly returned in kind.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crane. I'm eternally in Abbie's debt for helping me in math class. Without her, I think I'd still be in algebra 2."
Ms. Mills laughed, "That was a drop in the ocean compared to how you helped me with that Julius Caesar essay."
I wondered if the lieutenant was referring to the play by William Shakespeare, but decided to ask later, so as not to interrupt. How could their society have both Shakespeare and the caterwauling they called music? It was a paradox.
"Abbie is much too modest, Mr. Crane. My family had some problems when I was in high school. I doubt I would have graduated, hell I doubt I'd even be sober, without Abbie’s support. She was the only one who I felt like accepted me and didn’t judge. I was kind of self-involved in those days and I feel like I never thanked you so.... Thank you, Abbie... Only 10 years later."
"You are so welcome 10 years later."
Ms. Mills and Miss Darlene embraced after which they both dabbed gingerly at their eyes, so as not to spoil their makeup (which the lieutenant does not need. But I digress.)
As they continued to chat, I allowed my attention to wander to the party's other attendees. Many seemed to be well in their cups by then, judging from the loud whoops and shambling dancing.
Just then, I noticed someone I had hoped not to see again that evening or ever: Tim. He was standing on the other side of the room, by the punchbowl and gazing around the room, as though looking for someone or something. His hair and clothing appeared messy and unkempt.
I tapped Ms. Mills shoulder, "Kindly forgive my interruption but shall I check on that?" I gestured toward Tim.
Ms. Mills groaned. "Is he back already? I really am going to find out tomorrow who his parole officer is."
As if he heard her, Tim suddenly seemed to wake up. His face contorted into a grimace and, for the first time, I noticed…
"Crane, his eyes." Ms. Mills whispered, clutching at my sleeve. They were an expressionless milky white. I didn't have time to ponder the meaning of this because, with a roar, formerly-Tim came charging toward us.
I dashed to place myself between the monster and Ms. Mills and Ms. Darlene. The creature seemed to have the forces of hell at its disposal, as its strength far exceeded a human’s. After a brief struggle, I was thrown bodily against a wall.
I was dazed for a few moments, but picked myself up as quickly as I could. Unfortunately, the creature was gone and Ms. Darlene was sprawled on the floor, her face smeared with blood.
The lieutenant held her mobile telephone to her ear. I heard her calling for other officers, as she cradled Ms. Darlene’s head in her lap.
"It went that way, " the lieutenant said, motioning toward the door.
***
"Are you OK? Which way did it go?"
I heard a click as the lieutenant engaged the safety mechanism of her sidearm followed by a softer sound as she returned the weapon to its holster.
"Crane? For real, you OK there?" I felt her hand nudge my shoulder.
"I am very well, thank you, lieutenant."
"You just grabbing a nod?"
My eyes were closed. Oh. "I believe I landed here when the demon threw me against a tree. A hand, if you would be so kind?" The lieutenant grasped the hand I held up, assisting as I clambered to my feet."
"It's my fault it got away," Ms. Mills sighed, “I was afraid to leave Darlene until the ambulance arrived."
"How is Ms. Darlene?"
"She regained consciousness, but sounded kind of out of it. The EMT said he thought she might be in shock."
"I see... Will she recover?"
"He said he thought the shock was due to emotional stress, so she should be ok in a few days."
"You did the proper thing by staying with Ms. Darlene. I imagine the shock would have been much worse had she awakened among strangers."
I brushed the dirt and twigs from my garments.
"You have a, um, branch in your hair. May I?"
"Pray do so."
Ms. mills walked behind me. I held my breath as I felt her fingers brush against my hair.
"Here you go," she handed me a small twig.
"Ah, thank you. I shall cherish it."
"Got a couple more. Want me to get those too?"
"Indeed. If you would be so kind."
I felt her fingertips moving gently against my scalp. I closed my eyes for a moment as one fingertip brushed against my ear.
She stood in front of me now. "Almost done. Can you bend forward? There's one on top I can't reach."
I inclined my head toward her. The lieutenant's dark eyes were so close to mine now. She drew a breath as she met my eyes for a moment, then glanced upward as she quickly but smoothly removed the final twig.
"There. All done," she whispered as I felt her breath against my cheek.
She stepped back quickly. "Ready to hit the road?"
"Do you need to reconnaissance with the other officers?"
"Nope. Already gave my report while you were napping."
"Then by all means proceed."
***
Abbie POV
as we were heading across the parking lot, a man I recognized as the DJ from the party-from-hell approached me and asked, “Are you a cop?”
"I'm Lieutenant Mills. May I help you?"
"Abbie Mills?"
"Yes. How did you know my name?"
"I was going to ask if I could leave this with you, seeing as you're a cop. But actually you won. Congratulations." He handed me a box I recognized as packaging for a portable stereo.
I knew my mouth was hanging open. I never win anything! "Wow. Thank you, Mr....?"
"Jared Simms. But don't thank me, you won fair and square." He smiled and scratched his head. "Weird night, huh? Think they'll catch that guy? That was sure brave how you tackled him, Mister."
Crane waved his hand, "It was nothing. I only wish I had prevented his escape."
Jared nodded. "I'm going to get going before anything else happens. You guys have a good night and enjoy the stereo!"
"You're going to love how much better music sounds with that gadget," I told Crane as we got into my car. "I can't wait for you to try it out." I noticed him wincing as he buckled his seatbelt.
"Are you sure you're ok? You might have hit that tree pretty hard."
"I am perfectly well, Ms. Mills, as I keep explaining. Merely a little sore."
We drove a few miles in silence until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
Quickly, before I lost my nerve, I said, “I wanted to apologize for dragging you into that mess."
"It is I who should apologize for pressing my invitation when you said you did not desire to attend."
"No, you were right - it would have been a waste of money not to use the tickets. Plus, I should get out of the house every once in a while. Want to hear the really stupid part? It was my idea to go. Andy could have cared less.”
After a pause Crane said, “I am sure you had a good reason for going.”
“Sleepy Hollow isn’t that big a town. To this day, when I run into someone from high school, it’s like I’ve gone back in time and I’m this powerless little girl again. I hate it because I’ve spent the past 10 years trying not to be that person anymore, but it’s like she’s never quite gone.”
Now I was crying. Shit.
I was having trouble seeing through my watery eyes, so I pulled over to the side of the road. Crane handed me a white folded cloth.
I stared at it for a moment, then laughed, “Is this a handkerchief? I’ve never seen one in real life.”
“The very thing. You are most welcome to it.”
“Thank you.” I rubbed my eyes, realizing my mascara was probably shot to hell by now anyway.
“That’s what I get for trying to face my fears, huh? So, anyway, I’m sorry the evening was so terrible.”
I was preparing to put the car back in gear when Crane said, “This evening had its moments.”
“Hmm… do you mean the demon moment or the Asshole Tim moment?”
Crane was looking out the window, apparently engrossed by the deer crossing sign I’d parked in front of. “I meant the part where I danced with a beautiful woman.”
My stomach turned over. Had that happened when I was in the restroom?
“Wow. OK, um. Was that Mikaya? She’s a model in the city, I think,” I heard myself starting to babble, “I was surprised she was there this evening because she’s the closest thing Sleepy Hollow will ever have to a celebrity. I don’t know if she’s single but I could ask around.” Wait… did this mean he was blowing off Katrina?
“Ms. Mills… Abbie.” Crane turned toward me. “Can you be unaware I meant you?”
“M-me?”
Crane reached forward and grasped my hand that was resting on the steering wheel. Drawing my hand back, he brushed his lips against the back of my fingers for a moment, then held my hand on the seat between us.
“Yes, obviously.”
When he looked at me, the softness in his eyes overwhelmed me. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to take him in my arms and… see what happened next.
I squeezed his hand, took a deep breath, and said, “We need to talk.”
***