Chapter Text
Abbie couldn’t believe her co-worker and friend Frank talked her into going to church with him on the snowy January Sunday. Yeah, sure it was true that she’d been out of sorts since she’d had to shoot a suspect last Halloween, killing him. Internal Affairs had ruled it a just kill, but Abbie still couldn’t get the twenty year old kid’s face out of her dreams and it was starting to show. She felt like shit, unable to get a decent night's sleep. Regardless, Abbie didn’t hold out much hope that attending the Unitarian Universalist service would help, but here she was…Frank was a really persistent SOB when he wanted to be. That’s what made him a good cop and an even better friend.
Abbie stood up straighter when the service started and the minister came out from her left. Her breath caught…he was young – maybe mid-thirties, tall and handsome with wavy brown hair, a full beard and startlingly blue eyes that Abbie could clearly see even three rows back. But what impressed her the most was his air of kindness. It radiated off him like a wave.
Abbie almost slapped Frank when he leaned over with a smirk to whisper, “His name is Minister Ichabod Crane. And he’s single.”
“Shut up, asshole,” Abbie mouthed back at Frank, rolling her eyes just as Minister Crane looked at her with a slight lift of his eyebrow, letting Abbie know that her lips had been read – loud and clear. Fuck. She felt the heat rise from her chest all the way to her hairline, thankful that he couldn’t see her blush, although as Minister Crane gazed at her for a beat too long, Abbie Mills strongly suspected he knew.
Looking away, Minister Ichabod, as Abbie already thought of the man, opened the service with words of welcome. His obvious English accent surprised Abbie – Frank hadn’t mentioned that – but she was more surprised by how much it calmed her to listen to the words, his soft, gentle inflections a sudden and much-needed balm. Crap, Abbie thought a bit bitterly, just my luck. Frank was right and I’ll probably never hear the end of it.
Abbie reached over into her bag and retrieved a twenty dollar bill, handing it over to one very smug looking Frank Irving. He’d won the bet fair and square and Abbie never reneged on a bet. It was a source of personal pride. Since she was eighteen, Abbie had stood on her own and paid her debts, no matter what it cost her.
She gave Frank a death stare, daring him to do anything other than take his money and be quiet. Seeing Frank knew better than to risk his life in a church, Abbie turned back to the service…to Minister Ichabod...exhaling for the first time in months.