Summary: Abbie tries to get Ichabod to wear jeans and a sweater but it leaves him confused.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of SLEEPY HOLLOW

Rating: K+

Pairing: Abbie and Ichabod


Ichabod looked at the trousers Abby had handed him with an eye brow raised. "What am to do with this garment?" He asked shaking it slightly. She had called the trousers 'jeans' and he wasn't sure how he was to wear them. The button was self-explanatory, but the metal down the middle was completely foreign to him. "Are my clothes not acceptable?" If it was up to him then he would remain in his own clothing. Though, he could sense that he had no choice in the matter. "Can my clothes simply not be laundered and then returned to me?" Ichabod forced himself to casually glance at Abbie. She was dark, beautiful, and she fired his blood beyond reason more so than his wife had upon their first meeting.

Abbie rolled her eyes at his question trying not to laugh at him even though he was clueless. His clothes were ok, out dated, but they were fine. They suited him more than she would ever tell him. "If you want to blend in, then you have to change your clothes." She took the jeans from him and pointed out, "This is called a zipper." Then she pulled down the zipper to demonstrate how it worked. Abbie tossed him a black turtle neck sweater and then added, "You can keep the boots and jacket." She liked the way they looked on him. When she looked at him, she couldn't believe that he was real. He was a man out of time, buried in a cave for well over 200 years. Abbie was trying so hard not to like him, but he had this way of being endearing, of making her feel like she was sane rather than keeping the stigma of crazy she had carried nearly her entire life.

Ichabod rolled his eyes in response to her comments but he took the trousers back as he toed off his boots. Quickly he shed his jacket and peeled off his 200 year old shirt that his wife dressed him in before laying him to rest in that cave. His hands tried not to run over the scar marring his chest. It had been the near fatal wound the Horseman had gifted him with upon the field of battle. He shuddered to think about it. Then his hands drifted down to the buttons of his breeches that he was glad to be out of. They were soaked through with mud and were beginning to emit a foul odor. Ichabod let the dark fabric fall down his long legs intensely aware that Abbie was still watching him. Modesty should have been screaming at him at the way she was opening staring at him, but it thrilled him to know she wanted to gaze at him. He turned into an imp, slowly letting his breeches fall to the floor. Ichabod had to find some fun when he could in this new century and Abbie refused to turn her head.

Abbie didn't know why she was staring at the man everyone thought was crazy. Her eyes skimmed over the jagged scar on his chest. No one could fake a deep scar like that, not even the best make-up artist in the world. It only added to the legitimacy of his claims of being from the past, of surviving so many years in a cave she had seen with her own eyes. There was the urge to reach out to him, to touch the scar that had claimed his life, but she restrained it. She had vouched for him and kept him out of the insane asylum; for now. She watched him dropping his pants and then felt her cheeks flush as she caught a glimpse of nothing under his out dated pants. Then she turned from him fighting the urge to continue watching. "Sorry," She muttered not really meaning it. Abbie strained her hearing listening to Ichabod as he pulled on the jeans. She could imagine him pulling the fabric up his long legs, over his hips, and pulling the zipper up. With her back to him, Abbie could lick her lips without him seeing her. One thing was certain, he was easy on the eyes with the beard, the long hair. Even as pretty as he was to look at, there was still something about him that made her keep her distance. She wasn't sure what it was.

Ichabod didn't know why he wasn't more ill at ease with Abbie watching him. He actually preferred it to her back being turned on him. Though, it gave him the chance to study her, the proud way she stood, her spine ramrod straight as any soldier would stand. His gaze traveled up to her hair that barely stayed in the tie she had captured her locks in. He wondered what it would feel like if he were to run his hands through it. His imagination conjured the shirt being taken from her body showing more of her lovely dark skin. She was still unsettled around him as he reminded her of what had happened in her teens. It was best she didn't catch him watching her. Ichabod hated to be a reminder of anything to anyone, let alone something bad that had branded her from then on. There was no doubt in his mind now that there was a bond forming between them. He could feel it, but wasn't sure what would happen to them in the meantime now that evil was here. Ichabod was certain that he would continue to walk this earth for seven more years. Perhaps after that, he would return to his cave, to hibernation. That thought settled uneasily in the pit of his stomach.

Abbie turned just as he was pulling the sweater down over his chest hiding the scar from view. She was pleased with the clothes she had picked out for him. The black jeans and thick sweater looked good on him. "There, blending in already." She smirked at him. He sat down on pulling on his boots. Abbie watched as they slipped easily over the black fabric of his jeans. Once more Ichabod stood and replaced his jacket. "You look a little more modern now." Pulling a second hair tie off of her wrist she handed it to him. He looked at it and then back at her prompting her to explain. "You use it on your hair." She could see that he wanted to reply back at her that he knew that, but to his credit he remained silent.

Ichabod took the tie having seen her use it. He combed his fingers through his hair, aware of the fact that he would need to bathe soon, and secured his hair at the nape of his neck. "There," he shrugged feeling the weight of his new clothes. They were comfortable and moved with him. "Thank you for your kindness, Lieutenant." He inclined his head. Even through her rough, abrasive, acerbic manner, she had been kind to him and threatened him only a few times. Her kindness meant more to him that he could possibly let on.

Abbie came to him, tilted her head back, and graced him with a small smile that was tinged with sadness. She placed her hand flat on his chest, resting over the scar, as she said, "You and me have to stick together if what you say is true." Abbie gently patted him then. "We'll need to be able to trust one another and I'm taking that leap right now and trusting that you come from the time you say you do." In her eyes she showed him that she would need more time to take him at face value when he started spouting crazy talk. Ichabod smiled gently at her, inclined his head, and took a step back. In that moment Abbie breathed a little easier, though, for how much longer she wasn't sure. The longer Ichabod stayed, the more chances she had to get used to him being around, to wanting him around.