Crane felt Abbie move beside him. He opened his eyes to the arch of her naked back. Her brown hair was sprawled across the pillow they shared. He yawned and scooted over to kiss the midpoint between her neck and back, Abbie's favorite spot. He missed her while she was asleep. Crane sat up, stretched, and removed the sheet from around him, while still making sure it covered Abbie. He found his boxers thrown in a chair and put them on. He also found his hair tie sitting on the nightstand. He reached for it to put it on, but put it back where it was. Abbie liked his hair loose sometimes. He walked over to her side to place a kiss on her cheek. Even though he wanted to wake her to see her pretty brown eyes, he didn't. He knew she was tired, not only from their romantic night before, but from fighting demons as well. He wanted her to rest like she deserved. Breakfast, he thought. He'd make her breakfast in bed.

He stepped out of the room and into the kitchen. Abbie had recently bought him groceries, so he didn't have to worry about not having any food. But what would he make? He didn't really know what Abbie liked for breakfast besides coffee. Maybe even doughnut holes.

Opening the fridge, he skimmed the items: eggs, orange juice, cheese, milk, water. He shook his head at the bottled water. There was nothing wrong with the taps around town or the lake. But Abbie said they have chemicals. Such waste of precious water supply. Who pays for water? He closed the fridge, looked in the cabinet. There was a box of pancake mix. "Just Add Water," it said. He groaned. The necessity of having food made instantly. Doesn't anyone do anything the old-fashioned way anymore? Go out and catch something, skin it, cook it over a fire. Start in the day, finish in the evening. He wanted to slam the cabinet door, but he didn't want to wake Abbie. He slammed the box on the counter instead.

Crane searched the kitchen for a bowl, whisk, measuring cup, and all the other items he knew he would need. Once all his items were set up, he began making the pancakes. He stopped as he was mixing the batter. Pancakes need something special. When Abbie took him out for breakfast one time, she didn't get regular pancakes like he did. She got blueberry. She said regular pancakes were boring. His fingers wiggled as he stared around the kitchen for something else to add. He didn't see any blueberries in the fridge. Just apples. He spotted some bananas on the counter and snapped his fingers. That'd be perfect. He found a knife, a cutting board, and peeled some bananas; then he cut them up. When he was finished, he put them in the mix and stirred them.

As he waited for the griddle to heat up, he went to check on Abbie. She was still sleeping in the same position she was before. He smiled at her and tilted his head. He would always be indebted to her for all she's done. She's his partner, lover, best friend, fellow Witness. He'd do anything for her. She accepted him when no one else would. Fought for him, encouraged him, gave him a "kick in the butt" when he needed it as Abbie put it.

He almost forgot about the pancakes when he began to smell the skillet. He rushed back to the kitchen to begin cooking them. As they cooked, he made a pot of coffee and began to set everything up on a tray. Some of these items were Abbie's. She brought them over because she figured he'd have more use for them than her. She wasn't a big cook. They ate Chinese or burritos or some strange, but interesting food nearly every night. It was a rare occasion when Crane would cook. He was glad to be able to do it today, especially for Abbie.

When the coffee was poured in the cup, the pancakes on a plate, and both of these items on the tray, he stepped back to admire his work. He didn't do a horrible job, but something was missing. He wiggled his fingers again until it came to him: whipped cream. Abbie had whipped cream on her blueberry pancakes. Perhaps, if she doesn't find the pancakes enjoyable, then the cream will make it better. Such a delightful treat, he thought. He squeezed some on the pancakes and added syrup. Breakfast was complete. He hoped she would like it.

Once in the bedroom, he sat the tray on the nightstand; there was one next to Abbie as well. It had her gun and badge on it. Luckily, there was enough room to hold the tray.

He kissed her awake until she moved again. When she opened her eyes, he smiled at her. "Good morning, Treasure."

Abbie smiled at him, too as she sat up. "Morning, Crane."

She looked at the tray sitting on the nightstand and lowered her eyebrows. "What's this?"

Crane played with his fingers and put the tray in her lap. There were even more crease lines in her forehead. "Breakfast. I made you breakfast, Abbie. They aren't, of course, blueberry pancakes as you found rather decedent, but they are banana pancakes. With whipped cream. From a can. Full of unrecognizable chemicals and ingredients and God knows what else. It's atrocious that you would even—"

"Crane." She stared at him with one of her eyebrows arched.

"My apologies, Ms. Mills." He cleared his throat. "Shall you endeavor to try one of my cakes?"

She chuckled as he bent down in front of her. "Sure. If I die though, I'm haunting your ass for the rest of your life."

"Very funny, Ms. Mills. I can assure you they won't be that disgusting. It's only bananas. You like bananas, right?" His placed his hands behind his back and squeezed them together. "I can make you some else if you'd prefer. Perhaps you'd be willing to try French toast or one of those healthy cereals you purchased. I can even─"

"I'll try them, Crane. If I don't like them, then we'll try something else. Maybe go buy pancakes. No big deal."

She cut off a piece to chew. Crane's fingers wiggled again.

Abbie nodded her head. "Not bad. Look at you. Ichabod Crane, soldier of the Revolutionary War, making pancakes. I think I could get used to this."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Try not to get too comfortable, Leftenant. I'm not that knowledgeable about the art of cooking, but I will gladly learn for you. Maybe I can watch─what do you call it?─'YouTube videos' to accompany me."

Abbie shook her head and smiled at Crane again. He knew she found his use of modern speech amusing. She held out her fork for him to take a bite of her food. He nodded his head, too, but held up a finger to say something.

"They need something more. It could be cinnamon or nutmeg, a spice."

"They're fine."

"But Left-," he didn't finish his sentence because he felt Abbie's lips on his cheek, then his nose, his forehead, his lips. He didn't want her to stop; he was sad when she did.

"Thanks for breakfast, Crane." She giggled.

He didn't say anything after that. He smiled and took the fork from her. They fed each other pancakes and whipped cream and shared the coffee; then they lay down in bed and recreated last night.