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Abbie Mills was not sure how she wound up in this situation. She was currently locked in a small storage closet with the one and only Ichabod Crane. She hadn’t even known the damn things had locks. How it had ended up locked after hours, when her and Crane were the only ones at the sheriff station? That was an even bigger mystery.
Crane pounded on the door for the thousandth time, before turning back to Abbie. “What is this infernal contraption and why will this door not open?” Ichabod fumed.
Abbie looked up at him from her position on the floor, rolling her eyes and replying, “Which part, the lock or the door? Both of which, if I’m not mistaken, they had in your time.”
She smirked at the look exasperation on his face, fiddling with a stapler she’d found on one of the shelves. Nobody was going to be there until the next morning. Apparently there were downsides to sneaking around the sheriff’s office after hours in order to save the world; being locked in supply closets for the night was an unexpected one.
“You might as well sit down, Crane, we aren’t getting out of here anytime soon. No one’s here and they probably won’t be until the morning,” Abbie said gently.
Huffing out an irritated sigh, Ichabod eased himself down beside Abbie. The silence that filled the room, after the continuous pounding ended, was unexpectedly comfortable. Abbie enjoyed Crane’s company in a way she hadn’t expected when she’d first met the man. Maybe this was to be expected when her destiny was to stop the apocalypse or it was some side-effect of being a witness, but she wasn’t an expert on the subject, so who knew?
Crane was a good man, and he had adapted surprisingly quickly to the world into which he had been thrown so abruptly. He truly cared about the world and he was a big help when it came to all the “saving the world” stuff. Although, now that she thought about it, he was kind of useless when it came to physical confrontations. It was a good thing that she had a handle on that department.
She chuckled at this, turning her head to find Crane watching her. “What are you thinking about, Miss Mills?” he asked.
He squinted his eyes, and tilted his head. She didn’t exactly want to tell him she’d been thinking about him, so she tried to come up with a convincing lie before he noticed. When she saw the look on his face, she realized she should’ve known that he would know immediately. He had his eidetic memory and that seemed to include her facial expressions.
“You do not have to lie, lieutenant,” Ichabod said, looking her in the eyes, before turning away. “I would not wish for you to unwillingly share your innermost thoughts, but I would prefer a direct answer. Please do not think you have to lie to me.”
Abbie laughed at that, “You know Crane, you’re one of the few people I can’t lie to. I’m a cop, I’m a pretty good liar, but you can always tell. How do you know?”
Crane turned back to her, smiling. Abbie loved his smile, and his eyes, and even that damn ponytail. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. When did she start thinking things like that? Trying to distract herself, she focused on a spot right above Crane as she concentrated on his answer.
“Well, it’s quite simple, really. I’ve noticed that, when you lie, your right eyebrow arches slightly. I’ve memorized much of your face and facial expressions due to my eid- Abbie?” he paused, noticing her expression. “Are you quite alright? Are you in pain?”
He turned around, trying to find what she was focusing on. She scrambled, searching for a reasonable response. Finding none, she decided she might as well tell him the truth. It was going to make for an awkward 6 or so hours in this closet, but she would have to tell him eventually. At least this way, she wouldn't have to deal with his fussing.
“No, I’m not in pain, Crane. I was trying to focus on something else, to distract myself, I guess,” she admitted.
This only served to confuse Ichabod more. He squinted his eyes and asked, “Why would you be trying to distract yourself? Is my company so displeasing to you?”
He actually seemed hurt, or at least offended. She probably hadn’t phrased this as well as she could have. Her best plan of action at this point was to be blunt, but that wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Abbie did not want to ruin their relationship. They had to stop the apocalypse together whether they were friends or not and the job would probably be more pleasant if they were friends.
“I wasn’t trying to distract myself from you- I, well, I was, but not for the reasons you said,” she paused, working up the courage to continue. “Your smile distracted me and I was- I think- I think of you as more than just a friend. I might possibly think of you in the romantic sense,” she plowed through, breathing heavily.
For a second, Ichabod just stared at her. Then, he surged forward, melting his lips against hers. His beard scratched along her face, leaving a tingling in its wake, as he gently cradled her head. The kiss lasted what felt like a lifetime, but was probably only a few seconds. When they broke apart, Abbie looked up at Ichabod’s face. His eyes were full of wonder and it took him a few moments to speak again.
“Miss Mills, I can assure you that your feelings are reciprocated. I did not realize that one so, beautiful and intelligent as yourself would ever consider me in such a regard,” he smiled. “I would very much like to be ‘more than friends’ as you put it.”
While this was an unexpected turn of events, she wasn't complaining. Laughing, she said, “Come ‘ere,” and she pulled him in for another kiss.
Sometime later, when they went to check the door, it was open.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
“Move out of the way,” Jenny whispered, pushing Katrina out of the way.
Katrina pushed back, peeping through the crack in the door.
“Couldn’t you use magic or something? Then we could both see,” Jenny said, obviously irritated.
“I could, but this seems much more fun, wouldn't you agree?” Katrina asked. “Besides, I don’t get much chance to spy these days.”
Jenny huffed, holding the key close to her chest, waiting for the signal. She was done waiting for that Crane guy and her sister to hook up on their own, and apparently so was Katrina. Which, now that she thought about it, was weird. Weren’t they married?
“Hey, aren’t you married to this guy?”
Katrina chuckled, “Not really, death parted us a long time ago. I’ve managed without him for over 200 years, and he is certainly managing without me. Take a look!”
Jenny leaned into the crack in the door and saw her sister in a rather compromising position.
She looked at Katrina and whispered, “Ready? One, two, three!” and on three she unlocked the door, and they bolted.
The bolting was purely precautionary. She knew Abbie and Crane wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.