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He was doing it again… watching the lieutenant as she slouched in the armchair, mostly asleep. Ichabod ran a hand through his hair, muffling his own sigh of exhaustion. They had been going through the books and papers in the old armory all night, and he was starting to think fondly of the foul drink she had plied him with before. He found his eyes trailing over her again, a fond smile playing across his lips as her head tilted to the side and a soft, sleepy exhalation slipped from her.
He knew he should be working on their latest foe, not dwelling over soft skin and sweet smiles. He felt safe here, despite the upheaval of his life (death, perhaps), more safe than he had a right to, honestly. For certain, there were things that were frightening, and more than a little frustrating. Not even counting the coming of the end of days and the monsters they were dealing with in rapid succession. His beloved city was loud, busy, smelled funny. Everyone looked at him strangely and he couldn’t keep himself from returning their confused gazes, no matter how many times Abby swatted his arm and told him to stop. But he found his gaze more and more frequently drawn to cocoa skin and dark eyes, comparing it favorably to porcelain skin and flashing green eyes he was more accustomed to.
His wandering eyes had consumed his already difficult nights with guilt. He’d twisted and turned in the motel bed the SHPD had provided him. He was afraid to sleep for fear of the censure his Katrina would surely berate him with. But he had to sleep, because that seemed to be the only way she could communicate with him, and he still desperately needed her help to stop the coming apocalypse. He finally decided to ‘nut up’ as the lovely Miss Jennifer had so eloquently put it, settling in for the night. The fate of the world was definitely more important than his errant affections.
“My darling Ichabod, what are you doing here?” Katrina’s soft voice slid from the trees behind him and he turned, peering into the mist that always seemed to pervade these dreams.
“I find myself troubled by trifling matters, my Katrina.” He smiled as she glided into view, holding his hands out of her. It felt so good when she took them, centering him again.
“You are truly foolish, my love. Do you think I have missed the thoughts and yearning you have for the Witness?” She laughed as Ichabod flushed, resting her head on his chest for a minute.
“Katrina, I love you.” He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin lightly on it. “I do not know what to do with these conflicting emotions. How do I choose?”
“Oh, Ichabod. My darling, you do not choose. The choice was made over 200 years ago. Our time together is over. I will always be yours, and I know you will always love me. But I am dead, Ichabod. When you free me from here, I will not return to the living as you did. I will move on – as should you, my love.” She pulled away just far enough to cup his face in her hands, smiling up at him. “She is strong enough for you, and you can be strong enough for her. Your life will not always be monsters and madness and you must prepare yourself for that eventual time. I have faith in you, in the second Witness, and in your path together. Please have faith in yourself, and in her.”
His eyes closed, dropping his forehead to rest against hers. “I cannot yet love her, Katrina. But… I believe I could. I do not want you forgotten, though.”
“You will not forget me. We will always be a part of each other. I sent you to this new future without your knowledge, or your consent. The only thing I can hope is that you will find new happiness amidst this turmoil, and will eventually forgive me.” The small, sad smile on her face broke his heart all over again.
“There is nothing to forgive, Katrina. You did what was necessary for the salvation of the world and I would not have changed anything save the time I lost with you.” He hugged her gently before she pulled away. Their time was running short and he found himself once again grateful for these brief meetings.
“I must go before they find me. Be happy, Ichabod. That is all that I could wish for you, despite these desperate times. I shall find you again when I have news.”
He watched her disappear into the mist and woke with a smile on his face.
It was some days later that they were once again forced awake far too late in the armory. When Abby’s head drooped against the side of the chair, he stood and gently pulled the book from her lap. She blinked up at him, confusion and exhaustion clouding her warm eyes.
“What are you doing? We’ve still got all this to cover.” She gestured vaguely at the table.
“No. We are done for the night.” He crouched down to catch her gaze, resting his hand lightly against her cheek. “Come. This will keep ‘til tomorrow.”
Her eyes closed briefly as she leaned into his hand. “There’s still so much we have to figure out…”
“And we will. Have faith in us, leftenant, and in our path.” His thumb stroked her cheekbone, smiling as she smiled.
“Ichabod…”
“To bed, Miss Abby. Tomorrow, we shall again tackle the never-ending book demon.” He pulled her up gently. It warmed him how easily she complied, how trusting she was. There weren’t many the strong-willed police officer let herself lean on, especially since Sheriff Corbin had died. When she sighed and rested her head against his shoulder, he allowed himself to wrap an arm around her shoulders, walking them out of the armory.
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips as they parted ways, resting their foreheads together for a brief moment. He was there, waiting for her when she was ready. By the way she leaned into him, squeezing his arm gently before pulling away, he would not be waiting long.