I grit my teeth, stretching my arm so far it was considering popping out of the socket.
Goddamn peanut butter. Goddamn high shelves.
Seriously though, who puts peanut butter up that high? Peanut butter is an everyday food, you don’t store that away in back, with the steak spices. But Crane would. Of course he would.
My hand planted on the counter, balancing on tippy toes, reaching as far as humanly possible… I could barely even brush it.
Eventually I stood down, reduced to glaring at it with my hands on my hips. The jelly was already on the bread.
There was no other possible solution.
He was insufferable.
“Leftenant?” He asked innocently, hands clasped behind his back as he strolled into the kitchen. I didn’t know how he wasn’t gagging; my stink eyes usually have that effect on people.
“Could you,” I growled “please, get the peanut butter off the shelf?”
He smirked. Smirked.
“Of course, anything to be of assistance.” He said, dutifully taking the peanut butter off the high rise. I smiled, reaching out my hand, “Thanks.”
But apparently he wasn’t done.
He pulled the jar up above his head. He was trying to hide a grin, now.
“Crane,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control, “what are you doing?” He looked at me, eyebrows raised, eyes wide. Oh, no.
“Why, whatever could you mean, Leftenant? You simply asked me to ‘get’ the peanut butter, as I now have. You are very welcome.” He mock bowed, keeping his hand high up in the air.
I, on the other hand, was speechless.
“Alright, what’s the deal? What do you want?” I said finally, crossing my arms.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Well, Leftenant, I want many things. To what are you referring?”
God, okay. I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, is this some grammar lesson?” He said nothing, just kept that impertinent smirk on his face. I raised my hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay! I apologize. I’ll ask you ‘Correctly.’” Yes, there was air quotes used. “May I please have the peanut butter?”
He didn’t move.
“For a price.”
Oh, oh sweet baby Jesus.
I gaped, staring wide eyed and open mouthed at him. “W-wh…” I cleared my throat. “What?”
He looked perfectly angelic, standing there, waiting patiently. “I believe you heard me quite clearly, Leftenant.”
I gawked at him.
“You, want me, to kiss you. For the… peanut butter.”
“That is correct.”
“No way in hell.”
Now, I like to think I’m a reasonable woman. Lieutenant Abbie Mills of the Sleepy Hollow sheriff’s department. But LIFE stopped being reasonable when Ichabod Crane showed up.
“I’ll just go to the store and buy some, then.”
“Oh, yes. Leftenant, before you go, where are your keys?”
I just wanted a sandwich. Was that really so much to ask? I mean. REALLY. In the scheme of things, with the apocalypse still on the table and whatever demon comes at us, is it really so impossible for one of the witnesses to get some lunch?
Maybe the horseman of famine was riding.
I had run out of options; we’d stood here for about fifteen minutes, and Crane was showing no signs of weariness from holding his arm erect.
I, on the other hand, was growing very weary.
“Crane, can you just, please give me the peanut butter?
“I already gave you my price.”
“Your price is stupid.”
“I don’t think so.”
So we stood, for another five minutes, him looking unperturbed, hand erect in the air with the peanut butter in his grasp. Me, stomach growling, arms folded, eyes stinking.
“So you promise to give me the peanut butter?”
He smiled, the bastard.
It wasn't as if I’d never thought about it before. I mean sure, in passing, I’d had a daydream or two. That’s not a big deal though, right? I mean, everybody has those once and a while, when their closest friend is some tall, incredibly hot (from an objective standpoint, of course), British gentleman. How could they not?
I just didn't think I would actually have to take action on them.
I took a tentative step towards him, frowning. How was this going to work? Just a peck and we were good?
I've gotta admit, it was pretty awkward, standing there. Feeling like this moment could change everything (Which it obviously couldn't, it was just a kiss).
Just a kiss.
I stood on my toes again.
I leaned in and up, he leaned in and down. A gentle hand cradling my face.
My absurd thought before it happened: He was still holding the peanut butter above his head.
His breath mingling with mine, eyes fluttering closed. I don’t actually remember who breached the gap. I think it was me.
And then his lips just tenderly brushed mine, beard lightly scratching at my face. Something inside me squeezed and ached, and I sighed against his mouth before twining my arms around his neck. He placed a hand on my waist, slowly pulling me closer until every line of my body was pressed against his. I gently ran my tongue between the seam of his lips, and he opened them in a hitched breath.
I took my time with him, gently running my tongue over his, trailing it behind his teeth. Delighting in every soft gasp or gentle moan, wrapping my fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. I heard a clank on the counter, and he wrapped his second arm around my back.
This felt so… right. I needed this. Needed him.
He pulled away, leaving me gasping for breath. I was about to get extremely embarrassed, until he simply moved his trail of kisses down my jaw and throat. He nipped experimentally, and I could feel him smile against my neck when I keened.
He returned back to my mouth, holding me so tight it almost hurt, but wasn't enough at the same time.
Somehow I ended up sitting on the counter. I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist, accidentally rubbing myself against him. He let out a low groan, hands stuttering as they trailed down my sides. I did it again, on purpose this time.
His reaction was slightly different.
One hour later, the peanut butter was all mine.