Chapter Text
Dear Miss Jenny – I am in need of your assistance.
>>What’s up?
It’s time.
>>???
I will explain. I am at the cabin. Please call at your convenience.
>>K see you at 3?
When Jenny arrived at Corbin’s cabin, she found Ichabod pacing between the kitchen and the dining table, lost in anxious thought.
“Crane?”
“My apologies for not answering the door, Miss Jenny. Thank you for coming over.”
“Yeah,” Jenny ventured with just a hint of the wariness she felt, “I wasn’t sure what you meant by those cryptic texts.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes. “We talked about this before.”
“Oh? Well some of us don’t have perfect memories.”
“You told me last year that if I needed any assistance in ‘transitioning’ to this century that your sister was unable to provide, you would come to my aid.”
Jenny was pretty sure she’d made the comment in jest, but he was clearly in earnest now. With a look that Jenny could only have described as “sheepish,” Ichabod retrieved his iPad from the dining table and handed it over.
The open tabs told the whole story. GQ—of all things. Several fashion blogs. Askmen. Okay, he needed an intervention.
“I must enter the modern era—fully and completely. I have clung to the past for far too long, and if I am going to court your sister, I must be able to do so without appearing in a way that will make her uncomfortable and remind her—”
“Whoa, whoa. Back that up.”
Instead he barreled on.
“Your sister deserves someone who is fully committed to the present time. This,” Ichabod plucked at the sleeve of his coat, “only serves to remind her that I am a lost puppy, needing her care.”
He paused; Jenny knew more of this speech was coming. He must have been working himself up for days about this idea. She filed away the “court your sister” comment for later.
“I must evolve to our new circumstances. Like those finches of Sir Charles Darwin.”
“Made it to The Origins of Species, have you?”
“I am a man of science and learning, Miss Jenny.” He fidgeted again before continuing, belying his small smirk—which faded quickly, “I can’t hold onto the past any longer. Katrina is gone. My son is gone. I thought I could recreate the world I knew here, but I realize now that was folly.”
“And you think my sister pities you?”
“Yes. She must. We’ve gone days now without seeing one another. I do not believe she knows what to do with me after ....”
“Look, Crane, you know Abbie’s like that. You don’t need to change for her. Really. You can just call her.”
“As long as I am a pet, a curiosity, a time traveler,”he bit out the words, “A man in costume, we cannot move forward as true equals.”
Jenny did her best to listen. She really did. But Crane was full of absolute shit. Abbie may have had odd habits of showing her affection, but Jenny knew all the signs. And then there was the whole line of nonsense with “Witness duty” and “no dating at the end of world” that her sister had fed her. It’d been almost two years; Abbie gave no fucks about Crane’s breeches. Except that she obviously wanted to get in them.
Both of them were full of shit.
“She doesn’t care. I swear. You’re you.”
“Please.”
She badly wanted to tell him just to man up, go over to Abbie’s house, and fuck her senseless, because he’d be welcome. Instead, she relented.
“Go find that bag of new clothes Abbie bought you that I know you have stuffed away somewhere. We’ll go from there.”
In the waiting area, Jenny settled in with the salon’s copy of Vanity Fair. She tried her damnedest to concentrate on a profile of Chirlane McCray, but kept chuckling to herself as the staff cooed over Crane.
The magazine a completely lost cause, she pulled out her phone.
Hey! Where are you?
>> …
Jenny glanced over at Crane and the fawning stylist. He was gesturing toward the heat styling tools, and clearly “inquiring” about their uses. And the poor woman was obviously falling hook, line, and sinker for his apparent flirting. Jenny just shook her head.
Are you home?
>>Yeah, sorry. Just got home from yoga
I have something for you
Will you be around in about an hour?
>>Got a hot date with wine takeout and Frank Underwood
Weak
Alright see you soon
That the “something” was an Ichabod Crane in jeans and a sweater and a new haircut and a new mission was just going to be a surprise. And it would definitely be better than cold noodles and Kevin Spacey.