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Language:
English
Series:
Part 4 of ApocalyptiCorp
Stats:
Published:
2020-01-24
Words:
1,522
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
23
Hits:
393

Dangerous Woman

Summary:

Abbie is a woman of many talents.

Work Text:

"Your tie is crooked."

Ichabod stood stock still as Abbie pushed onto her toes and straightened his tie. He was fairly certain there was absolutely no call for her to press against him so intimately. Or for her to rub her hands on his chest as she was doing, once she finished with his tie.

The fact they had made it to the lift was surreal enough, he didn't need her to fuel the idea that she might actually be interested in him.

Although, they did make a rather good team. More often than not, they balanced each other in a way that perplexed him. It wasn't often he formed just a casual bond so easily. Not that there was anything casual about their friendship. She was practically plastered to his side anytime he went on a delivery.

They shared a car, they shared a hotel room. They shared chatty, casual takeaway meals and watched a movie or binged a TV show while in their hotel rooms. More than once they had accidentally happened upon the other as they were getting out of the shower.

Fortunately for the shower happenings, they always had a towel on. But it was still far too much skin for Ichabod's liking.

"All better," Abbie said softly, still leaning against him.

"I… thank you Leftenant," he stammered. "I just can't figure out what went wrong. Everything was going so swimmingly. Why would emergency protocols be activated?"

Abbie pursed her lips and pushed away from him. If he had been a wiser man he would have taken note of the disappointment on her face as she brushed her hair behind her ear. "No telling. It was weird how you ended up locked in the bathroom like that though."

Ichabod frowned. It had been odd. Even more odd was that apparently the lock only had the outer key to lock and unlock it. Where a deadbolt latch should have been had been just a plain metal plate. The bathroom window had been too small to escape through--not to mention too high off the ground for his liking. And the air vents had been laughably small. So he had been stuck in the bathroom until Abbie had freed him.

Abbie had said she hid until all the ruckus died down.

But none of that mattered, he supposed. They were in the final leg of the delivery. Any moment now the doors would slide open and his contact would come out of hiding to shut down the emergency protocols. Then they could start the long trek back to the ApocalyptiCorp headquarters in Sleepy Hollow.

Not that he had anything against Utah. But he just really wanted to get back home. Preferably before he did anything to threaten his and Abbie's friendship.

The doors slid open and Ichabod felt his soul weigh heavily in his stomach as he looked at the corridor in front of them. "Lasers," he whined. "No one said anything about lasers. Why did it have to be lasers?"

Stretching down the corridor was a sea of red lasers cross crossing the path. And on the other end, he could see the pad to input the code to lower the emergency protocols. But where was their contact?

"I still don't get your aversion to lasers," Abbie chuckled, plucking a strand from her hair. She approached the lasers and swung the plucked hair through on red beam. It immediately sizzled.

"They are dangerous," he insisted. "A boy once flashed one in my eyes and I've had to wear corrective lenses since!" He looked at Abbie when she removed her earrings then thrust them into his hand. She reached up to her hairline and pulled a face as she broke the bond of the adhesive keeping her wig in place. "Wh… what are you doing?"

"You're terrified of lasers, I'm not," Abbie pointed out, shoving her wig into his hands. Taking a few steps back, Abbie pulled the zipper of her dress down her side.

Ichabod's eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor as she slipped off her dress, leaving a puddle of red shaffon at her feet as she stepped out, leaving her shoes behind as well. Abbie scooped up the discarded dress and shoes and shoved them into Ichabod's arms.

"Hold these would you," she requested.

She rolled her shoulders as Ichabod tried to juggle the items and the briefcase containing the documents for delivery in his grasp. "Abigail… what… what are… oh… my."

With fluidic ease, Abbie stepped over one beam while ducking between two others. He stared in awe as calculated each of her movements before making them. At one point she slid between the floor and one laser, her back arching gracefully as she skillfully avoided the next laser while riding back to her feet.

Abbie turned towards him and smiled. "What's the access code?"

Ichabod gapped for a moment, making sure to keep everything in his arms in front of his waist. He was wholly unprepared to explain why he was suddenly aroused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The access code?" Abbie repeated. "So I can turn off the lasers?"

"Oh, right, um…" Ichabod cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "4060174… and the pound sign." He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He tried to avert his gaze but kept looking back at her.

Her eyes twinkled, trying to hide a smile as the lasers disappeared. Ichabod immediately trotted over to her. "Thank you," he said softly. "But how did you manage that?"

"Ichabod…" Abbie wrinkled her nose cutely. "You know I do yoga every morning."

He wasn't exactly sure how yoga and maneuvering between dangerous lasers went together, but he wasn't going to question it any further. He had a feeling the truth would terrify him even more. More and more, as of late, Abbie was making him have more questions than answers. If he did ask, he got strange responses like yoga or childhood gymnastics.

"Of course I know," Ichabod responded. Abbie stared up at him expectantly as she rested her hands on his. For a fool hearted moment, he wondered if she was waiting for a kiss…

"Can I have my clothes back, please?"

Ichabod shook his head to clear it. "Of course! Of course. Yes…"

He returned her clothing but made sure to keep his briefcase firmly in place. At least until he was no longer sporting his rather obvious reaction to her near nakedness.

Abbie chuckled lightly and shimmied into her dress then turned so the side zip was facing him. "Could you give me a hand?"

He almost whimpered. Almost. Instead he nodded mutely and tried to figure out how to zip the form fitting garment with one hand. In the end he shoved the briefcase between his knees and prayed it would prove to be a valid explanation for his… predicament.

Thankfully Abbie's focus seems to be on his trembling hands as he held the dress secure with one hand and zipped it with the other. He swallowed as he finished but didn't let go just yet. Abbie looked up at him again and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks," she said, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

The doors behind them slid open and a frazzled looking man in a lab coat wandered out. "Is that my delivery," he asked frantically.

Ichabod nodded curtly and realized he still had the case between his legs. He quickly retrieved it and stepped forward towards the man.

The man nodded shakily. "Pandora promised you could make it even with the emergency protocols on alert." He peered up at Ichabod then glanced at Abbie, her hair hidden underneath a stocking, traces of adhesive at her natural hairline. "And your reputation precedes you, madam."

"Oh? What reputation?" Abbie asked with a bright smile.

"That you always make sure the delivery man arrives unharmed," the man said, giving her a wink.

"Pandora only hires the best," Abbie stated. She slipped her long, curled wig back on and shifted it into place.

"That, she does," the man commented. "You two might want to skedaddle before the police arrive. There's an alternate exit if you take a left at the end of the corridor instead of a right."

Ichabod nodded and took Abbie's hand. Her eyes widened as he pulled her along, taking the alternate exit the old man had told them about. In no time at all, they emerged from a large drainage tunnel and strode into an open salt flat. The moon shined down, casting a glow on the thin sheen of water covering the flats.

In the distance, a helicopter was making its descent, making a landing on the flats.

"Looks like someone got us a ride back to Salt Lake City," Abbie commented.

"So it seems," Ichabod agreed.

As soon as they were in the helicopter, Abbie leaned her head over on Ichabod's shoulder and closed her eyes. Ichabod rested his cheek on the crown of her head and sighed with contentment. "I have a feeling you are a dangerous woman, Abbie Mills."

She hummed indifferently. "You have no idea."

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