Chapter Text
Chapter 1.
The cabin was cold. She wasn’t used to being somewhere without central heating and air for more than an hour, but she did it for him. And for herself. She needed a break from life, even for just a day, and who better to spend it with than him. The smell of the wood burning in the fireplace wafted through the air and reminded her that she didn’t have to struggle to find warmth under the poor excuse for a blanket left by the cabin’s previous tenant. However, she didn’t move. She liked being close to him. His warmth was much better, even a foot away.
Both parties watched the fire intently, as if it were the “moving picture device” she had back at her apartment. He liked to imagine that the flames danced like lovers under a starlit sky provided by the floating embers. For her, they were soul mates that kissed with a wild and unapologetic desire, akin to the one that burned inside her at the very sight of him.
“Leftenant?”
“Crane,” Abbie replied exhaustedly. “I know you’re just being respectful and I appreciate that. But I really don’t mind if you drop the title. I’m not at the station or on the clock. It’s okay.” Ichabod looked at her and smiled as if he’d just been given exclusive access to her personal space.
“My apologies. I’m having a difficult time foregoing formalities.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “Did you need something?”
He turned back to the fire and wore a perplexed look on his face. “May I offer you my body heat?”
Confused, she replied, “What on Earth…?”
“I don’t intend to be rude,” he started, “But I’d very much like to assist in warming you up. You’re shivering and I’d like to hold you closer, if you would allow me.”
Abbie’s mind took her to a plethora of places after hearing that; places she only visited at night when she was home alone.
And lonely.
Snapping back to reality, she answered him shyly, as if he saw the images flickering in her mind. “No, thank you. I’m fine. Really. I’m fine. Thank you.” She always restated herself when she was nervous. Ichabod took note of this habit months before. He grinned at the convention before proceeding to ignore her request. His lanky and somehow muscular arm wrapped gently around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Abbie didn’t fight the gesture, but, instead, let out the most feminine giggle Ichabod heard in many years.
“Thank you,” she uttered bashfully.
He kissed her head in response and rested his cheek on her hair. That’s when it hit him. The most wonderfully fragrant poem his nose ever identified: delicious, sugary candies with a hint of amber. He took a deep breath to gather and embrace all that he could.
As he exhaled, he asked, “Miss Mills, would you mind telling me what perfume you’re wearing?”
Abbie responded, “It’s just body spray, like perfume with all of the scent and a quarter of the cost. It’s called Warm Vanilla Sugar.”
Wonder washed over Ichabod’s face. He thought about how fitting the name was and related it to the scent. Once the connection was made, he looked satisfied. “You smell delectable, Miss Mills. I can’t imagine why or how I didn’t notice it before.”
Blushing, Abbie responded to the compliment with a very coy “Thank you.” The butterflies arrived. They haven’t visited her since her last crush, which was longer ago than she’d like to admit. Did she have a thing for Crane? Surely not. He was a friend. A good friend. A good friend that was destined to help her cancel the apocalypse. But… what if they were destined for more?
Her wandering thoughts were interrupted by Crane’s smooth British accent. “Miss Mills?” Even this formality was starting to kill her hopes. She felt like his teacher. Before her mind raced too far down the gutter, she decided to respond. However, a simple “Hm?” was all she could muster.
“I simply wanted to inform you that I’ve grown quite fond of you.” She liked the way that sounded, but she didn’t want to read too far into it. Again.
“I’ve grown quite fond of you too, Crane.” She jokingly tried to mimic his accent, but ended up sounding sarcastic. Trying to cover her tracks, she turned her head to gaze at the confounded look that he prominently wore on his face.
“Crane, I…,” she began. “I’m sorry. That came out really bad. I’m very fond of you, too.” The previous look washed away and he smiled. Relieved, she continued, “I think that I’m more fond of you than I should be.” She didn’t mean to say that, but the dark cloud of doubt took over her words and it came out involuntarily.
“What do you mean, Miss Mills? I’m certain that the feelings coming from this section of the cabin are stronger than you have been led to believe.”
“Oh, really?” Abbie asked in a surprised tone.”
Ichabod’s smile grew wider as he replied, “Indeed.” He looked deep into her chocolate-colored eyes and she returned the gaze and took note of his dilated pupils. She knew what he meant now. Each person’s lips slightly parted as they gradually got closer.
This is it, Abbie thought. She hadn’t kissed someone in years, and she was just as nervous as when she had her very first. Just as she took note of the smell of mint from his freshly bushed teeth…
SNAP!
The almost kiss came to an abrupt halt mere milliseconds after both parties heard the noise. Ichabod rushed to a standing position, taking great care not to disturb the comfort that Abbie found in her current sitting situation. He hurried to the window behind him to try to assess the location of the noise. Looking around the snow-blanketed forest, he saw a branch to his right, hanging on to its mother for a few more seconds before plummeting to the ground. The crash made Abbie gasp and Ichabod jump.
“It’s okay. It was just a branch falling from a tree,” he explained as he walked back to the couch.
Abbie was relieved, but was more concerned about how to pick up where they left off. Ichabod sat next to her. Just as she built up the courage to devour him, he interrupted her plan.
"Miss Mills, I know that the weather is dreadful out and if you were to decline my request, I would understand completely."
A little frustrated, Abbie asked, “Are you hungry, Crane?” She almost followed it up by offering him a more intimate snack, but she feared the insinuation would be lost on him.
"Starved."
Abbie got up from the couch and Ichabod helped her put on her coat. They stepped outside and as the unforgiving wind chill sent shivers all over their bodies, and they both rushed to the car. Abbie started the engine as she watched Ichabod methodically secure his seatbelt. She tried to fight the giggle as much as she could, but he heard it, and chuckled in response. As the engine roared to life, she cranked the heater up to the highest setting and proceeded to the nearest store.
The car ride was a silent one, with the exception of the hot air blowing through the vents. She almost wished he would find some new button to be fascinated with, just so there’d be something to listen to. She looked to the right and caught the eye of the 200 and something year old man. She cracked a smile and her eyes returned to the road. A sign caught her attention:
KWIK SNAX – 10 MILES
Ten fucking miles? Abbie new this was going to be a long drive, made even longer by the fact that the roads were still bad enough that she had to tame her inner speed demon. She pressed the power button on the radio and eased the volume up to a comfortable level. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ichabod staring at her. He looked like he was trying to solve a complex math equation.
“Uh, are you okay?” she asked. Ichabod flew back in his seat.
“Miss Mills, I’m sorry if I seem startled,” he began. “There is no one else in this motorized carriage, is there?” He was almost as confused as she was.
“Correeeeeeect.” She dragged the word out, hoping to keep him from being even more frightened.
“Then please inform me, where are the sounds of the instruments coming from and how are you both singing and talking?”
“Aaah.” She often forgot that he wasn’t from this century, or the last, for that matter. “That is the radio,” she explained. She pressed the eject button on the CD player and placed her hand on his leg for a brief moment, letting him know that she would protect him. She grabbed the disc from the radio and showed it to him. Before she could teach him about this branch of modern technology, he began to put the pieces together himself.
“When this… disc is inserted into that contraption, it plays music?”
With the smile and tone of a proud mother, she replied, “Good job!” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, but displayed a smirk himself. He would have patted himself on the back, too, if he didn’t think it looked so pretentious. He continued, “And this is not you singing.” He studied the CD from all angles. “And this woman singing, have you had her bread?”
“What?” Abbie’s confusion returned as quickly as it left.
“Well, her surname is ‘Baker’. I assume she bakes.”
Abbie tried to produce a soft chuckle, but the cackle that came out was almost deafening. “That’s just her last name. They aren’t as literal as they used to be.”
Ichabod nodded in understanding, but Abbie could sense that laughing at his lack of modern knowledge cut more than he let on. She placed her hand on his leg. “Crane, you’re a very smart man. Incredibly intelligent. When I laugh… I don’t… I’m laughing because I have only known the things I know to be one way. Never in my life would I have thought about her baking. I laugh because I find your ignorance adorable. But I’m not blaming or teasing you.”
He placed his hand on hers. She thinks that he was explaining how he understood and what he felt, but she was so focused on the electricity that travelled up her arm and spread into her stomach that she really didn’t pay attention to him. When she realized that he was still talking, she got up to speed with the conversation.
“Her surname should be singer. She’s quite incredible.”
Abbie smiled at him as she listened to Anita croon. Ichabod closed his eyes and seemed to get lost somewhere between the lyrics and the melody. Abbie redirected her full attention to the road and proceeded to the store.
Six more miles.