Chapter Text
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No less than a fortnight after New Year's Day, the papers filing for Jenny's release had gone through (it really helps, having a lieutenant for a sister) and she'd immediately moved into the apartment with Abbie and her partner in crime, Mr. Tall, Dark, and British.
Jenny, having totally called it from the start, merely threw back her head in laughter and said, it's about damn time, when Abbie had told her that they were officially dating. Crane, ever the gentleman, had graciously offered up his bedroom to her, and had taken to sleeping on the couch, keeping what few belongings he possessed in a small corner of the living room (though it hardly mattered, given the fact that he spent every other night in Abbie's bedroom, anyway…Jenny wishes she could say that her noise-cancelling headphones actually work…but hey, if this date goes well, who knows? Maybe she'll finally have the chance to get back at them.)
She's just stepping out of her bedroom and heading toward the living room, when she hears the telltale sound of hushed giggling coming from the other side of the couch. More than a few times over the past month, Jenny had caught Crane sneaking out of Abbie's bedroom at some ungodly hour of the morning, clad in nothing more than one of Abbie's fuzzy, embarrassingly short (well, at least, on his pale, hairy legs) bathrobes, to grab a fresh pair of pants…but this, by far, is so much worse.
When Jenny peeks around the side of the couch, it's to find Crane wrapped around her sister, one hand weaving through the strands of her hair, the other creeping under the hem of her shirt, both of them making out and grinding against each other like a couple of horny high school kids with nothing to lose. And, because this truly is a nightmare come alive, Jenny is almost certain that she just saw tongue.
"I would say 'get a room,' but I doubt it'll even make a difference," Jenny teases, hovering above them with her arms crossed over her chest, one threatening eyebrow raised in faux disgust and amusement at having caught them in the act.
Jenny can't help but burst out laughing as Crane immediately bolts upright, his eyes growing comically wide as he shifts all the way to the other side of the couch, and perches on his hind legs like a disgruntled bird. Abbie, on the other hand, isn't the slightest bit fazed, propping herself up on her elbows, swiping the back of her hand across her lips, and giving Jenny a sheepish smile.
"What?" Abbie whines, drawing out the word. "It's Valentine's Day…leave me alone, I'm entitled to this."
Crane dithers about for a moment, torn between an antiquated sense of nobility and the desire to adhere to this century's customs on courting, before leaning forward, one finger held up in the air in surrender as he tries to get back on Jenny's good side.
"I am terribly sorry for what you have just witnessed, Miss Jenny. I can only imagine how discomfiting it must be for you to have caught your sister and her lover in such a compromising—"
"Ew," Jenny grimaces, holding up a hand to stop him. Ichabod immediately falls silent, embarrassment coloring his features.
"Don't give yourself a coronary, Crane. It's fine," she says, waving off his concerns. "Just, please never say the word lover again."
Crane gives a sheepish nod. "Duly noted."
"Plus, it's not like I'm gonna have to see it for too much longer, anyway," Jenny adds, lips curling into a small smirk.
"Oh?" Ichabod asks, perking up. "You've got plans for the evening, have you?"
"Frank's taking me out," she says, casually shrugging it off like she hasn't been looking forward to it all week.
"Oh, so that's why you're all dolled up tonight," Abbie teases. "I wondered about the dress…which is mine, by the way…so thanks for asking before you stole it out of my closet. Some things never change, I guess."
"Red always looked better on me, anyway," Jenny ripostes, smirking.
"So, are you guys, like…official, then?" Abbie asks.
"Maybe," Jenny drawls, hiding a small smile. "We'll see how this date goes…but let's just say…there's a pretty good chance I won't be coming back home tonight."
"Okay, now it's my turn to be grossed out," Abbie laughs, while Crane, not quite understanding Jenny's implication, looks back and forth between the two sisters, one eyebrow quirked in confusion.
"Oh please," Jenny retorts. "I hardly think we're even in the same category…at least, not yet."
"Hey, I never said you could invite my boss over here for your weird, nasty hanky-panky," Abbie argues. Crane mouths the words hanky-panky, posing them as a question as he looks toward Abbie for an explanation. Abbie wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, giving Crane a lascivious smile, and that's all it takes before he's nodding in sudden understanding, the tips of his ears turning an impossible shade of red.
"Okay, but you also never said that I couldn't," Jenny counters with a sly smile. "Plus, I live here now, too. I've got just as much say as you do. And anyway, I deserve it, after all the stuff I've had to put up with from you two and your little…nighttime escapades."
"Nope," Abbie quips, popping the p for full effect. "My apartment. My boyfriend. My rules." Abbie stares down her sister's playful pout with a smug smirk, too intent on reveling in the comfort and familiarity of their lighthearted banter to catch the little flare of a smile that spreads across Ichabod's lips at the word boyfriend, or the way he tries to hide his contentment in that little downward cast of his eyes. Jenny doesn't miss it, though, and, in spite of herself, can't help the small smile that forms as a result.
"Anyway," she says, rolling her eyes and lightly kicking the back of the couch with the tip of her cherry red heels. "You guys got any Valentine's Day plans…dare I even ask?"
"Honestly, we're probably just gonna order some takeaway and watch cheesy romantic comedies all night."
"Right," Jenny teases. "I'm sure I know how that'll end."
"With lots of cuddling and hot cocoa, I should hope," Crane chimes in, offering Abbie the palm of his hand, which she graciously accepts, entwining her fingers with his and rubbing small circles across the surface of his skin with the pad of her thumb.
"Ugh," Jenny scoffs, rolling her eyes in mock revulsion. "You guys are gross. I'm leaving…all of this cutesy romantic crap is making me sick."
"Oh, you love it," Abbie laughs, wrapping her arms around Crane's neck and pulling him back down beside her.
"Yeah, whatever…but remember, dear sister, payback's a bitch," Jenny says, giving her an animated wink before shrugging on her jacket.
"Don't wait up for me!" she calls on her way to the kitchen, curling back the curtains and biting back a smile at the image of Frank Irving strolling up toward the apartment complex. She slings her purse over her shoulder and twists the doorknob, but just before she leaves, Jenny overhears the end of a conversation that makes her want to scrub out her brain with bleach.
"That's your dress?" Ichabod whispers from the other side of the couch, peppering every few words with a soft trail of kisses. "I've never seen you wear it…and I think I would remember a dress like that."
"That's probably because you already had it off well before your eidetic memory even had a chance to retain it. And besides, you were far too focused on…other things…to take proper notice," Abbie giggles, her voice low and salacious.
"Oh. Well, I suppose that's true," Ichabod says, laughing along with her, before swallowing the rest of her words in a kiss. Jenny makes a face as she closes the apartment door behind her, resolving to keep the dress on if things do go well with Irving tonight…just to spite them.
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