The Only Rules That Matter: Afterlife (TheCorsair, Madam Mim)

Katrina moaned, grinding against Ichabod's erection. She couldn't feel properly through her skirts and his trousers of course, but from what she could feel he seemed at least as big as Brom. She wondered what that would feel like inside her, if it would hurt. No, of course it wouldn't...her Ichabod would be tender and loving, and would never hurt her. Of course she was so wet that she couldn't imagine it hurting anyway. But then he pulled back, admitting that he wanted her but, for some reason, denying her.

"Of course there's plenty of time," she confirmed, leaning in to kiss him. "We've nearly an hour." But Ichabod pulled back and rubbed his thumb against her lips while promising that there was plenty of time for them. Katrina gently bit his thumb, then sucked on it briefly, then kissed it. "We won't be discovered," she promised, sliding her hand again up and down his shaft. "Ichabod please...I love you..."

~*~

Adam's cock throbbed in her hand and Jenny bit her lip. It was unfamiliar and that made it exciting. She brought her leg up to twine with his and leaned her weight against the tree, arching her back to offer her breasts to him. She gasped in pleasure as he experimentally pinched her nipple and allowed him to pull her closer and hike her skirts up as far as her hips. Jenny cupped the back of his neck with her free hand and kissed him hard. ...Then he asked her if she wanted him to stop. She pulled back gently and loosened her grip on his shaft.

"No, I don't," she said at last. Her voice shook and tears glistened briefly in her eyes before she blinked them away. "And that's just the problem, innit?" Slowly Jenny lowered her leg and let her skirts fall, and slowly she released him from her embrace, hoping not to hurt his feelings or embarrass him. "It's just...it's been so long since my John..."

Since her John what, exactly? Since he had truly excited her? Since he'd tried something new? Since he'd gotten her off without having to rub her clit, a feat he'd accomplished many times in life? A long time since their sex hadn't been boring? A long time since he'd gotten her as wet as she was right now? Her heart felt like it was being pierced by a knife to know that all of these things were true.

"There hasn't been anyone since he died," she started again, which was technically true. "I don't mean to keep it that way, and I do want you--God how I want you--but I mean to do this right. I like you, Adam. You're sweet and kind and handsome, and you could give a woman a good life." Jenny managed a smile as she reached up to tuck a bit of hair behind his ear. "But if for some reason I'm not the woman for you, I don't want to ruin your relationship with the woman who is your wife. More than that, I don't want to ruin your relationship with God." She sniffed and looked down, feeling miserable and ashamed at what she'd done. "I'm so sorry, Adam. It's just been a very long time since anyone's touched me like that, since anyone's made me feel the way you do...and I got carried away. It's awful lonely being a widow." Again she plucked up the courage for a small, rueful smile. "There will be plenty of time for us to enjoy one another. Promise."
 
Jack groaned as Katrina bit and then sucked his thumb, grinding herself in his erection as she did. Damn, but he wanted her. Which was, of course, a terribke sin. Till death do you part... a traitor vouce nagged, but he slapped it away. He wasn't actually certain if they'd really died. And besides, he and Jenny hadn't parted. "We'd know," he said, caressing her lips with his thumb, and ignoring how badly he wanted to fuck just then. "You'd know, and God would know. And you don't know me that well, not yet."

It was an effort to pick her up so that he could stand up, mostly because part of him didn't want. He felt like a heel and a traitor when he leaned in for long, lingering kiss Ichabod would have offered. "Besides," he added with a wink, "it's only an hour. Nowhere near long enough for what I'd want to do. And by the tme I finished, I can promise we would have been discovered..."

Not giving her time to try and tempt him further, he took her arm and escorted her out onto the path. Then an idea struck him. He needed to find out where Josephine Sumner went to practice her rites, didn't he? "But tell me," he asked, squeezing her hand as he glanced sidelong at her. "Where might one slup away to in the evenings? If they were in search of a little privacy..?"


Well, that broke the mood. Adam still held Jenny, but now it was to comfort her as she talked about how sorry she was, and how lonely she was, and how she wanted to make sure she didn't tempt him from the path of the righteous. "It's kind of lonely, being the only son of a farmer as well," he said, then chuckled. "But I'm certain it's nothing to losing your husband. He... was a lucky man."

Impishly, he kissed her forehead. "And I will be, too," he declared. "Because I can't imagine you not being the right woman for me. You're pretty, and smart, and funny, and..." He glanced down at his still erect cock, and gave her a rueful look. "And, well, I guess you've noticed that you being a widiw hasn't, uhm, bothered me."

Grunting and wincing, he tried to force his erection back into his breeches. "But I'll wait, Jenny. Because..." Fastening the buttons once more, he offered her a slightly pained smile. "You're the kind of woman I won't mind waiting for, or working to convince."
 
Jenny chuckled awkwardly when she followed Adam's gaze down, then bit her lip. It was different from John's, if nothing else. She could change her mind and no one would know...

God would know. And she would know. And she would break this poor kid's heart, taking his virginity then disappearing. She sighed again and smiled. Why was he just so goddamned sweet? If she were alive and single she really would have considered him.

"I suppose there is something to be said for being with a...more experienced woman. But you've known me for all of a day, Adam," she pointed out gently. "You haven't found for yourself yet that I'm insecure and short-tempered, that if you tried to give me everything I wanted I'd run roughshod over you, that I can be controlling, that I'm an absolute terror to be around when I'm pregnant. And I mean that; my husband's employer fired him three days before Christmas, with a baby on the way, because I'm Catholic. I smashed a good quarter of his inventory and blamed it on the narrow aisles." She leaned up to kiss him, then smiled gently. "If you can see all these things and take them along with my being pretty and smart and funny, then yes it'll be worth the wait. But love is more than love at first sight." Jenny hugged him and, in a passing fit of self-indulgence, kissed his neck.

"But my husband and me were engaged for six months and nothing happened until our wedding night. I wouldn't want any less for you," she said, taking his hand and picking up her basket. "It's a sacred thing, and it brings you closer to God...but it wouldn't be quite so special if we all went around giving it away. I could wait for you, Adam. I really could. But I think we should both wait on God.
His timing is always perfect, after all." Jenny laced her fingers with his and started leading him back along the path. "I don't imagine Mister Crane would be terribly impressed, either."

~*~

Katrina blushed when Ichabod told her that an hour wouldn't have been long enough for what he wanted to do to her. Brom had never taken an hour. For as much as time slowed whenever his hand slipped up her skirts, they'd only ever taken twenty minutes at most. Her knees quivered as she wondered what exactly he could do that would take an hour. Ichabod steered her back out onto the path and squeezed her hand, glancing at her when he asked where they could go for some privacy. Oh the deliciously wicked man!

"There's a hollow in the darkling wood," she said casually. "If you step off the path and cross the brook, there's an old Indian trail that leads to an abandoned shack. It's actually quite beautiful, particularly at night. You might need blankets, though, as the nights are getting chillier."

She tried to forget what had just happened. She tried to think of a change of subject, but the slickness between her legs wouldn't allow it. "So you've been with a woman then, Ichabod?" she asked, returning his sidelong glance. "Your girl, that Dolan woman? Or someone back in England?"
 
"Perhaps there is more to love than love at first sight," Adam grinned, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in his crotch as Jenny kissed his neck. "But it's still got to start somewhere." Still smiling, he hefted her packages and squeezed her hand ,when she took his. "And you're right - God's timing is perfect." !but God would have to forgive, him mastrubating l,ater, because the feel of Jennifer Dolan was going to linger...

"I've no desire to get on Mr. Crane's bad side, either," he added, trying to distract himself. "There's something in his bearing... was he a soldier, once? I've no desire to speak ill of your employer, but he seems a bad man to cross." As he said it, he glanced sidelong at Jenny. To his shock, he realized she had it as well. He'd seen it in her last night, and today as she'd shopped. There was far more to them, Jennifer Dolan and Ichabod Crane both, then they chose to let on.,

"So," he asked, "did you still want to go spook hunting tonight? Or will your chores keep you occupied?"


The abandoned shack sounded promising, John decided. But he also decided that it wouldn't be a place to take Katrina. Nit alone in the dark, with blankets. His resolve had slipped far enough near a public road in broad daylight, thank you. Alone at night, with a gorgeous young woman asking about his sexual exploits? Bad udea.

"In Jamaica" John said. "Not long after the Admirality Court set me at liberty." He swaggered a little, feeling the rakish 'Captain Jack' persona settle over him as he soun the yarn. "A fair young maiden of the gentry, who took a fancy to young Ja- Ichabod." Maybe he was letting his pirate persona a little too much off the leash? "We married in secret, in our hearts at least. But her parents caught us before we could reach Haiti and marry in truth. For my sins I was dragged from her arms, thrashed soundly, and put on a boat to the colonies. I never again saw my darling Elizabeth, and it's unlikely I ever will. She's probably married now, wife to a Dutchman who's gone to sea more often than not. I hope she's happy."
 
Katrina put a hand to her heart as Ichabod told her his tragic story. She knew that 'married in their hearts' was obvious code--she wasn't completely naive--but still it was awful to hear that he had been pulled from her arms just as they were about to marry. It was like from one of the romance novels she had read, but without the happy ending of the hero fighting his way back to his love. Her arm tightened around his and he shook her head.

"How tragic!" she cried. "How romantically tragic! You poor man!" She leaned up and kissed his cheek as they walked, still unwilling to give up on persuading him to do something with her, even if it were later in the evening. "I can only imagine, luxurious nights with your Elizabeth before being pulled from her and separated forever. I...I can only hope perhaps some day some woman could help your heart mend?"

~*~

It was nice to walk with Adam, innocently holding hands. Of course, her hand would be doing something not so innocent as soon as he left, and God would need to forgive her for straying from her faithfulness to John while she did so. She frowned momentarily when Adam mentioned that John seemed like a bad man to cross, and she chose her next words carefully.

"He was a sailor for a time," she said slowly, "taken by pirates and later pardoned by the crown as he was captured and didn't go willingly. And he's never been a bad man, but I certainly wouldn't want to cross him. He can forgive, but he'll never forget. His memory is as deep as the ocean, and he's a man of very few second chances." Though her husband the apothecary had been a gentle man, this was true of Jack insofar as she had heard of how he ran his ship. She supposed she couldn't say much differently for herself.

"Oh I'm still up for spook hunting," Jenny assured him. "Will you come for me around sundown, or shall we go together before then?"
 
"Perhaps some woman will," Jack replied. Jihn replied. Damnit, he was getting all tangled up in his head! It had been a century since he'd let himself be Captain Jack, because it had been a choice between Jqck and his family, and he'd forgotten how seductive the role could be. But he found himself smiling a little as he flirted on autopilot. "But it would take someone remarkable, someone as clever and beautiful as she was. And daring, daring enough to make a self-absorbed firmer pirate look up from his books and see her."

He gave her a sidelong look. "But tonight, I'll be dining with a remarkable young woman and then - perhaps - casting off to seek adventure. I've heard of an abandoned house in the woods, after all, and I've a mind to see if it's haunted." He walked in silence fir a minute. "Have you heard any such stories about that place? Ghosts and devils and black masses, the sort of story thst makes you shiver round the fireplace at night?"



"Well," Adam laughed, "that's one thing mire I've learned about you then! You're daft enough to go with me to look fir the Horseman, even after what we saw last night!" He winked. "Oh, and you think me gentleman enough to be alone in the woids with me at night. So that's two things I kniw about you now, and I like them both!"

Her last question made him frown in thought. "Sundown," he decided. "I'd rather go when there's light, for I'll not lie and say the Horseman doesn't frighten me. But that'll give me time to finish my evening chores, and you time to complete your duties for Master Ichabid for the evening." A quick, laughing smile. "No sense in getting him angry at ne for stealing you away, right?"
 
"Sundown it is then," Jenny agreed with a smile. "I may be a daftie, but I have faith in your good manners and charm, Mister Van Kalt." She winked at him and nudged him with her hip. "As for the Horseman...well, God protected us last night, didn't He? He'll protect us again. Have faith in the Lord and He protects you in all things."

Finally they reached her front door. After producing the key Jenny let Adam inside to help her with her groceries. Once everything had been set on the little table, then put away into cupboards where they belonged, the two lingered in the middle of the tiny one-room cabin. Twice or thrice Jenny's eyes had drifted to the tiny bed she had shared with her husband last night, but banished the shameful, sinful thoughts that came to mind. Although, she couldn't help but push herself up to her toes and kiss Adam gently.

"I'll see you at sundown then, Adam," she said quietly, giving him a sweet smile.

~*~

Katrina's heart fluttered at the implication that she was remarkable enough to replace thoughts of his darling Elizabeth. She sucked in her breath when he mentioned the abandoned shack in the woods and nodded.

"They say the Horseman rises there," she said in a conspiratorial voice. "I could show you, if you wanted." Elizabeth had apparently been daring, after all. But was she that daring? Brave enough to walk into a haunted wood to show Ichabod where the Devil himself was conjured?
 
"At sundown, then," Adam agreed, arms slipping around Jenny's hips as he returned the kiss and lingered over it. For a moment he indulged the fantasy of going further, peeling her clothes off and lying with her on her master's bed, and it was an effort to step away. "I'll, uhm, see you tonight then," he added, lightly kissing her one last time and then turning towards the door. His gait was awkward as he left, a side-effect of his aching erection.

"The Horseman," he murmured to himself as he walked the trail towards home. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Going to do this.". But the attempt at distraction failed. Thoughts of the Horseman - of anything, really - dissolved into an image of a cute redhead and the way her body felt against him on the trail, and his cock twitched and throbbed from the memory. Finally, glancing around to make sure no one was around, he slipped off the trail and undid his pants.

Adam gasped as his hand wrapped around his rigid cock. He leaned forward, bracing one arm against the trunk of a tree, remembering Jenny as he stroked himself. His eyes closed as his hand pumped faster, remembering her leg around his hip, imagining it was her body he was pounding into. "Jenny," he groaned. "Jenny.". Then he climaxed with a gasp, his seed splattering the tree trunk as his cock pulled in his fist.

It wasn't enough, he reflected as he cleaned himself with a hand full of leaves. Not enough, and not what he'd wanted. But it would do, until he could persuade the lovely Widow Dolan that he was what she wanted as well. And at least now he could walk comfortably...


John warred with himself. Yes, he wanted her to show him. No, he didn't. He wasn't certain he could trust himself, alone in the dark with her. Because she was powerfully tempting, and he had no desire to betray his Jenny but God he wanted to fuck Katrina. He nearly had, there on the trail, and resisting would be harder alone in an old house at night. Also, if they weren't alone? Then he'd be putting her in danger.

On the other hand, she knew where she was going.

"I'd like that," he finally said, offering her a little smile. "What will your father say, though? Alone at night with an older man you hardly know? I very much doubt he'd approve."
 
Katrina waved away his concerns. "Father needn't know a thing," she insisted. "He often falls asleep by the fire after supper, and after that Mother retires to her sitting room. We can be gone by sundown and no one will be any the wiser." She smiled and nudged him gently. "Besides, he approves of you, and I can hardly imagine he wouldn't approve of you taking me on an innocent after-supper walk."

He wanted her. She knew he wanted her and she wanted him. The old hollow gave her the spooks, and she'd never been brave enough to enter the run-down old cabin herself. But she didn't believe the old stories--not really--and it would be worth it to have a man like Ichabod.

"Besides," she reminded him, "you asked where one might slip away in the evenings. And we could have so much more than an hour there, if you wanted." She glanced over at him, biting her lip innocently and yet at the same time suggestively. "We wouldn't be discovered, that much I know. The trees muffle any sort of sound...from tramping through the brush and whatnot, you know." There was an impish glint in her eye as she watched to see whether she had him just yet.

~*~

Farmers were built differently from sailors. Jenny had known this for a long time, but it had never truly hit home until she was held by a farmer the way Adam held her. John was all lean muscle, wiry and smelling of salt and gunpowder. Adam was broad and built and smelled of earth and grass. Her grin followed him out of the door even as she watched the way his well-formed arse moved in his homespun pants. She watched out the window until she was certain he wasn't coming back, then laid in the bed where she had briefly imagined he might pin her after stripping them both to bare skin.

Her folds were still slick from their encounter in the woods and from their lingering kiss goodbye. Jenny's skirts bunched around her hips as she slid her fingers along her clit, licking her lips at the memory of her hand wrapped around his shaft. It was long and slender, but still thick enough to get the job done. With her other hand she slid two fingers inside her as she imagined how it might feel to have him inside her, what it might feel like as he made love to her...or fucked her into oblivion. A young man like that surely could go all night, and oh the things she could teach him...

"Adam!" she whispered into the empty cottage as she came close, pumping her fingers in and out with one hand and frantically rubbing her clit with the other. "Oh God Adam!" As her walls pulsed around her fingers she couldn't help but want him more. The guilt and shame crept back as she wiped her fingers clean, but even so--and making it even worse--was the realization that Jenny craved something different. She didn't want to betray John's trust or to hurt him...but God the sex had just been so boring the past half-decade or so, hadn't it? Was it wrong to want something else? Some people couldn't go a mortal lifetime without that craving, and she'd lived two by now. She sighed and buried her face in her hands, horny and frustrated, guilty, not knowing what to do. It wasn't a new feeling; she had wanted Ion after all, and wanted him very badly. Had come close to allowing herself to slip several times. But she hadn't because she'd always had her vows in mind and her husband on his way home to them, walking in the door at any moment.

And now they were going to be alone together in the dark woods, with John off at some fancy dinner party. How strong would their vows be then?
 
Dinner ground along slowly. It wasn't the fault of the von Tassels, not really. They were pleasant enough company, although their conversations were oddly prosaic. Or was that just his own expectations? Half a life of piracy, and half a life of hiding from the Crown, and a full lifespan ferrying the soul of dead sailors had left him woefully unequipped for ordinary small talk. Add to that the way a bare foot kept stroking his calf, and he had a hard time concentrating. The bare foot was Katrina's, most likely. But her mother was ten years younger than her father, and fvored him with more than one interested glance herself. Or was that just his imagination? Hopefully it was. He didn't need to have to fight a duel, after all.

Finally, it was over. Mister van Tassel sat and talked for a half hour longer, until the port and the late night the previous evening began to take it's toll. Yawning, he excused himself. Missus can Tassel excused herself shortly thereafter, admonishing them to enjoy the evening before taking to her rooms. Shortly thereafter, John noticed, one of the house servants joined her there. A tall, well-built man with straight black hair and a touch of Indian ancestry, from his features. The servant did not emerge again. "Well," Katrina said, looking disapprovingly at the door.

"Shall we go?" John asked. "It looks to be a clear evening, so the quarter moon will give us some light."

Katrina's disapproving look faded into delight. "Oh, yes! Let me just go change! She bounded to her feet, twirling once as she did. "I love this dress, but it will hardly do for wandering the woods at night."

"All right," John agreed. "And we'll need to stop by my house on the way.". Halfway to the stairs, Katrina turned and gave him a puzzled look. "Whatever for?"

"I've a sword and a pistol'" John explained. "And 'd like to bring them. We are going to be in the woods at night, after all."
 
Jenny was just finishing her lone supper when the knock came at the door. Through the afternoon and evening she'd busied herself with tidying and scrubbing and, when that was done, patching up the thin quilt that had been provided for them. For them, for John and herself. Her husband. She tried to forget about what happened, about what they'd done in the woods and what she'd done once Adam had left, but her mind kept drifting back to it as she sewed. And now standing there at her doorway, the setting sun throwing a golden glow about him, it was impossible to forget why it had all happened in the first place. Jenny flushed involuntarily, but held her head high as she stepped out the door, determined not to let her sinfulness get the best of her.

"I've brought weapons, just in case." Jenny did, after all, have a sword and a pistol of her own and John had taught her how to use both. She hadn't done much fighting herself as Hong Zhenni, and the way guns had changed had made it necessary. She handed Adam the pistol and buckled the sheathed sword around her waist. "We're going into the woods at night, after all. No sense in not being cautious." She hooked her arm with his and let him lead the way into the already dark forest, heading the opposite direction of town. Even if John came home early they wouldn't cross paths, but she flushed again as she thought of the note she'd written explaining where she'd gone. She'd lied and said the van Kalts had invited her over for supper again. So now she was lying to her husband. Wonderful.

~*~

Katrina saw the two silhouettes disappearing in the direction of the van Kalt farm as they approached the schoolmaster's cottage, but said nothing. Let the servant girl have the farm boy; she was a fool for not having gone after Ichabod after all her years with him. She stood on the threshold, leaning against the doorway and watching Ichabod move about the room while playing with a locket around her neck in an attempt to draw attention to her decolletage. The dress she'd changed into was indeed more suited for wandering about the woods, but it was also rather lower-cut and the bodice pushed her breasts up nicely. Her breath caught when he brought out the weapons.

"Is it a pirate sword?" she asked breathlessly as Ichabod strapped it on and holstered his pistol. "No one would tell just from looking at you that you could be so dangerous." She took his arm and drew a finger down his chest, walking very close to him as he closed the door and started off across the field. "It's very exciting, isn't it?"
 
Adam took the pistol and examined it thoughtfully. "I've never fired one of these," he confessed, checking the Flint in the hammer before tucking it into his belt, "but it doesn't look too different from my musket. God willing, we won't need it. And if we do..?". He hefted his walking stick, three feet of oak with an iron spike for a shoe. "It's not as fancy as your sword, but it'll do the job. Against men, at least."

That seemed to trigger a thought. After digging into a pocket, he handed Jenny a rough-carved wooden cross and a small leather bag. "They say the devil can't stand against the cross, and I cared that out of dogwood - the same wood as the real cross. And the bag's a charm I had from a cunning man last year, a thank you for helping shift his cart out of some mud. He swore it's a protection against haunts and spirits.". He offered her a shrug and a sheepish grin. "Dunno if it works, but it can't hurt to bring it along."

He continued looking at her for a minute, enthralled and awkward in equal measure. Damn if she wasn't pretty, even with a sword buckled around her waist. Or, maybe, even more so because of it? Either way, the sight of her in the twilight made him think of earlier in the afternoon, and he forced himself to look away as he realized he was staring at her breasts. It didn't change the tenor of his thoughts, though. He wanted her, badly. Wanted to take her back to the little bed he'd glimpsed through the door and have her. Explore her the way he'd begun to in the wood, and the way he had in his fantasies.

He half suspected that,, if he tried, she would let him. And he wasn't sure if that made things better, or worse.

"Anyway," he finally said, "figure we should head out to the old house first. More of a shack, really. Two room thing, built by trappers back before the countryside was properly settled. Story is that it's haunted, so it seems a likely place to look for haunts."


Jack - no, John - strapped on his sword belt, relaxing into an exaggerated swagger as he did. It felt like stepping back I to Captain Jack when he wore it, and he struggled with that. Jenny didn't typically care for the cocksure braggart he played at in those times. He was, she assured him, cocksure and braggart enough without his 'pirate mask'. Typically, she didn't care for it. Although they'd been playing at Captain Jack and Red Jenny more often, trying to spice up an increasingly routine love life. And why the hell was his mind going there?

"Is that a pirate sword?"" Karrtina asked, excitedly.

Ah, yes. That was why his mind had gone there. God, he wanted to fuck her. Which just made him hate himself in that moment. "No, love'" he said, drawing the basket-hiltted saber and letting the blade gleam red in the setting sunlight. "It's Spanish, forged in Toledo. Named it 'Skull and Crossbones', I did."

Katrina drew a thrilled breath, an act that did interesting things to her cleavage, then moved closer. She took his arm and moved it around her, running a finger down his chest as the hilt rested against her spine. "Isn't it exciting?" she breathed, drawing her shoulders back.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed, lost for a moment in her half-parted lips and the creamy skin of her breasts and the way she pressed her supple young body against his. Then, suddenly, he kissed her and spun her away in a dance-like move, swatting her across the rump as he did. "None of that now," he laughed, sheathing his sword. "We've a haunted house to visit!"

His hair was too lose to be a swagger, and too steady to be a stagger, as he threw open the door and doffed his battered tricorn in a bow. "Which way, my lady?"
 
Goosebumps raised on Katrina's arms at the way he called her "love." She'd heard other Englishmen say such things...but he'd never been so familiar with her before. The dying sun dyed the blade a bloody red as Ichabod held it to the light and explained that it was a Spanish sword named Skull and Crossbones. It sounded an awful lot like a pirate sword to her, but she chose not to say anything, instead running a finger down his chest and breathed in sharply, noticing the way the hilt rested against her back the way certain parts of Brom had when he'd come up on her from behind in a dark barn. Ichabod agreed that it was all very exciting, and for a moment they lost themselves in one another's eyes.

Then he kissed her. He kissed her! She laughed as he spun her away, then squealed and jumped when he swatted her bum. She put her hands where his had struck her and looked partly scandalized, but mostly excited. "Mister Crane!" she scolded playfully, still laughing. With the way he was touching her, the way he'd touched her earlier, with how open he'd been to her advances, Katrina was certain that Ichabod wasn't following her into the woods at night just to hunt spooks. Still giggling madly and feeling her face hot, Katrina took his hand and led the way into the woods.

~*~

"The kick is different from a musket," Jenny said casually, "and the aim too. The range for a pistol is much shorter, only about twenty meters, and that thing's not rifled because you can't find a decent pistol in America or much of anywhere else anymore so half that at least. I can teach you how to shoot it some time if you want. Or before we go into these woods." She looked sideways at Adam.

"God willing, we won't need it. And if we do...?" Adam hefted his walking stick to show her the wicked iron spike at the end of it. Jenny whistled her appreciation of the weapon--inelegant, but certainly effective--before he set it back down. "It's not as fancy as your sword, but it'll do the job. Against men, at least."

Seeming to remember something, Adam dug into his pocket and retrieved a cross and a little leather pouch. The lamb was thoughtful. Jenny opened the bag and peered inside. Some salt, two silver pennies, angelica root, a bit of mandrake, St. John's Wort, and...beans?? There were two beans in there, but the rest of what she mistook for beans were the beads of a rosary. It was a clever little charm; someone knew what they were doing. After re-tying the bag and hanging it around her neck she smiled at him.

"That's very thoughtful. There's some powerful stuff in here." She patted the bag at her breast then tucked it away beneath her bodice and ignored that he was staring at them. Instead she rested her hand on the hilt of her sword in a way that was long familiar to her and followed him toward the tree line. "Makes sense. Most places aren't haunted, but some folk know their spooks from their stories."
 
The sun was a burning red sliver low on the horizon as they reached the woods, and the trees cast long twisted shadows in the evening gloom. Despite his confidence, despite the appealing (and comforting) presence of Jenny, Adam began to wish he hadn't agreed to do this. It was one thing to talk fine words and act brave in the light of day, and it was another thing entirely to follow through. He'd heard tales of devils and haunts and, more prosaically, Indians his whole life. The forest figured prominently in all of them. But, he couldn't turn back, not really. If he did, he didn't doubt that Jenny would press on anyway.

And besides, he'd seen the Horseman. Somebody needed to do something about that creature. He didn't want to be the one to do it, but it appeared that God had other plans.

"Folk say that witches can only harm you if you're alone in the dark," he said, trying to make it sound like a joke as he took Jenny's hand. "So, I figure you should stay close.". Then he laughed and dug into his pack, withdrawing a small lamp. "Besides, I've only got the one light. Should I carry it, since I've got the pistol?"



What did it say about a man's life, John wondered, when the prospect of wandering into the dark forest at night seemed... ordinary? It wasn't even the first time he'd done it, even. Hell, it was even the same witch. And, from what Jenny had said, the same Horseman as well. Was it something like the dullahan? Or was it a demon, or a damned soul that had bargained with Josephine Sumner?

If he'd signed her book, a century and more ago, would he be riding alongside the spirit?

"A pity I can't sail a ship in the forest," he murmured. "Always preferred a deck beneath my feet. Then he glanced at Katrina. She clearly thought this was just a little adventure, and the look she gave him made it clear she had intentions of being particularly adventurous. The thought made him feel guilty and hard all at once, and the knowledge that he could have her - that he wanted to have her - made him feel anxious and excited. How would she look on her knees, staring up at him with those oh-so-innocent blue eyes and her mouth full of his cock?

Fuck. Change the subject.

"All right, love," he announced, stepping around her. "Stay on my left, and just a little behind. That way, if we meet anything..."

"Like ghosts?" she laughed.

"More like deserters or thieves.," John replied, not wanting to let on about his reasons for being out here. "That way, I can draw and fight easily."
 
Katrina's breath caught when Ichabod mentioned preferring a deck beneath his feet. She got the feeling that there had been more to his pirate days than he let on. He put her behind him, despite her being his guide, and she held his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Since you prefer a ship so much maybe we could go sailing together some time," she suggested playfully, giving his hand another squeeze. "There's a fork up here. Take the left one." Missus Katrina Crane. It sounded perfectly delightful to her. They could sail the high seas together, she and Captain Ichabod Crane. She grinned behind his back at the idea. After a few moments of silence she ventured the question, "So what if we do meet a ghost then? Do you know how to fight them?"

~*~

Jenny could sense Adam's regret once they stepped into the woods. It was confirmed when he claimed that witches couldn't hurt them since they were together. She let him take her hand, though, and gave it a squeeze. "Bollocks," she answered. "Anyone can hurt you any time. Which is why we're getting the drop on 'em, eh?" She glanced sideways at him with a wry smile, then let go of his hand so he could light the lamp. "Aye, probably a good idea."

They walked together in the forest, lamp held aloft and startling animals into silence as they went. Jenny made sure to listen for them starting up again as they passed, for comfort if nothing else. She knew it was silly to fear a witch, but since she didn't know the exact conditions of her afterlife she didn't plan on putting herself in a position to get cursed or killed. For that reason and, admittedly, for ulterior motives she pressed against Adam as they walked. She had a difficult time not imagining all the things she could teach the virgin farmboy, as much as that sounded like a trashy romance she'd once bought from a bookseller in one of the less savory parts of Madrid. The idea of him lifting her and pinning her against one of these large, wide trees was an appealing one, especially here in the dark forest with no risk of anyone coming upon them.

"So what should we do if we do come upon the horseman?" she asked at length, trying to get her mind onto a different subject. "Shoot him? Ask him politely to stop killing people?"
 
"Do I know how to fight a ghost?". Jack laughed at the question. "A ghost - an actual ghost isn't something you can fight.". He glanced back over his shoulder, grinning. "On account of them being dead, you see. It's really hard to fight something dead, particularly if it's a spirit, because mortal weapons pass right through them. Can't fight that properly at all."

He gestured into the woods. "If you find an actual ghost, see, what you have to do is find what's keeping it around, and undo that. Or do it, sometimes. They might be here because they want revenge, it they're afraid of hell, of something else. And working that out is the tricky bit, it is, because they aren't likely to tell you. Some don't even know they're dead."

Slowing his pace, he let Katrina come alongside him. Do she wouldn't feel anxious, he told himself. This was an old forest, after all. The kind while trees grew tall and thick, blocking out the light of the stars and moon. The kind that sounded like the trees whispered to themselves, where a man felt distant eyes watching him. That was why he let her walk next to him, surely. Not because this way he could steal glances at her, admire her slim figure as she walked. Not so he could imagine her on her knees as he mounted her from behind, those skirts bunched up around her hips...

Fucking hell, this was going to be a long night.


"Who knows?" Adam said with a shrug. "Maybe asking would work? I don't think anyone's ever tried.". He scratched his forehead. "But, I don't want to count on it. So, he seemed solid enough. Maybe we can knock him off his horse and bind him, like Saint Nicholas bound the devil, and drag him back to the church to be exorcised?"

Said out loud, it sounded kind of stupid. He thought a little more, trying to get a better idea. Sadly, all his better ideas were full of memories of Jenny from the afternoon. Memories of her soft flesh under his hands, and her leg around his, and that led to thoughts of what could happen if they didn't find the Horseman....

"Maybe." he missed, trying to tear his thoughts away from how she might feel beneath him, "maybe we need to find out why he rides?"
 
Jenny was polite enough to keep herself from snorting aloud when Adam suggested that they try just asking him not to kill people. That had been mostly a joke. But then he came up with a plan that wasn't entirely stupid. Jenny nodded vaguely at his ideas.

"The why would be good," she agreed, "but it's a little late for research. Perhaps if we don't find him tonight we can look in old books or talk to the village elders about why he rides. I mean, they say he rides because he's looking for his head, right? But he's taken others' heads so obviously that's not it..." What had John said all those years ago about a skull on the witch's shelf? "If we do meet him though, I don't think dragging him back to the church would be a bad idea." She stopped and looked curiously at him in the dark. "Do Protestants have exorcists?" she asked, genuinely not knowing. She had devoted her life and afterlife to the rote and ritual of her own faith, but hadn't yet gotten around to learning about others. That was a good way to open the door to the Devil, after all. "I mean, I'm not an exorcist. I'm not even a priest, obviously. Where's the nearest Catholic settlement? How long would it take a real exorcist to get here?" She began to consider the logistics of actually dragging the demon back to the church and keeping it chained there while they awaited a real priest.

~*~

"Well then, is the Horseman really a ghost then?" she asked. "Or a demon? Because he seems solid enough, and Brom claims he threw a pumpkin at him once and almost knocked him off of his horse." Brave Brom. Not as brave as her Ichabod, but he meant well. She heard his breath catch as she pressed close to him as though afraid of the woods. She'd been in these woods and she knew them as well as she knew her own fields...in the daylight, anyway. It was perfectly ridiculous to think of a Van Tassel being afraid of these woods. Goosebumps raised on her arms and her nipples strained against the fabric of her top as a chill wind blew.

"After all, with all the killing he's done I do think the Horseman knows he's dead."
 
Jack started to reply to Katrina's statement, then stopped and cocked his head. There was a sound. Behind them, distant but growing closer. Hoofbeats. "Get behind me," he hissed as her turned, grabbing her arm and pulling her around.

"What?" Katrina sounded confused, and a little irritated. "What is..."

"Shut up," he snapped, peering back down the trail. It could be a rider, just in a hurry to get somewhere. It could be, and then he'd owe Katrina an apology. But it could be something else entirely. The reason he'd brought the hatchet he'd tucked into his belt, the very same hatchet that the Horseman had used to try and take his head back in England all those years ago. It was cold and heavy in his hand as he pulled it out, stepping forward a little to finish putting himself between Katrina and whatever it was that was coming towards them.

And then he saw it. A tall, cloaked figure riding a black horse. The sight of the burning-eyed carved pumpkin it carried in it's hand as it galloped towards them should have been absurd, even comical. But it wasn't, not then and there. Katrina shrieked in terror, tugging wildly at his arm, the broke free as the rider pulled at the reins and reared the horse into the air. "A head!" it bellowed, lifting the Jack-o-lantern.

"You first," Jack sneered, throwing the hatchet. His aim was off - he'd intended to bury it in the Horseman's chest but it went high, smashing the pumpkin. Pulpy orange flesh and a wash of burning oil scattered around, some of it clinging to the cloak and hood of the rider. The horse whinnied and bucked, sending the rider crashing to the ground.

"Shit!" the rider shouted, beating at the burning oil.

Laughing, Jack drew his sword. "I don't know who the hell you really are," he snapped, advancing on the rider, "but you picked a bad, bad day to cross swords with Captain Jack Sparrow!"

Cursing, the rider pulled himself up into the saddle and snapped the reins. The horse thundered towards him, forcing him to jump aside to avoid being trampled as the rider escaped into the woods. Shaking his head, Jack jogged to recover his hatchet. "Who the hell was that?" he asked Katrina. "Some..." His voice trailed away as he realized she hadn't answered. Spinning around, he found no trace of her anywhere. "Fuck," he grumbled, heading up along the trail into the woods. "Better go find her."



"I don't know that the Preacher's ever been called on to perform an exorcism," Adam allowed. "I mean, it certainly hasn't come up that I can remember. Blessing a house probably doesn't count, right? But maybe we can..." He stopped. "Did... did you hear that?"

Listening, he heard it again. A scream of terror, high and shrill and echoing through the woods. "Someone's in trouble!" he said, realizing how unnecessary that statement was as soon as he said it. "Come on, we need to go help!" With that he raced off, sprinting as well as he could in the direction of the scream.
 
"No, I don't think it does," Jenny admitted with a shrug. Blessing a house most certainly didn't count. She stopped with Adam and frowned at the sound of heavy hoofsteps, cocking her head to try and suss out the direction it was coming from. "Yeah..." she said slowly, before being interrupted by a high scream of terror.

"Someone's in trouble! Come on, we need to go help!"

Adam dashed off while Jenny was looking for the source of the noise. When she turned around he was gone. "Adam, wait! It's not safe!" She bolted in another direction, stepping off the path. It sounded like a straight shot east from where she was, so if she cut directly through the trees she should be able to find both Adam and whoever had screamed. Branches pulled at her skirts and roots tripped her, but finally she found the path again and turned south, drawing her sword as she ran and cursing that Adam had her pistol. She didn't fancy her chances in melee range of an undead horseman, but it was better than nothing at all.

"Let go! Leave me be! Help!!" Katrina struggled against the strong arms that had caught her. She had taken off as the horseman threw the flaming pumpkin at her and Ichabod. Still struggling she screamed at the top of her lungs.
 
Adam hurtled through the dark woods, hoping he was heading in the right direction. There had only been the one scream, after all, and sound could be tricky at night. Was he going the right direction? Would he get there in time? Or... they were looking for a devil, weren't they? Could this be a trick? Was he... No, no need to think like that. The voice was too clearly that of a young woman, and of someone who needed help. So he ran, dodging around tree trunks that loomed up in front of him, feeling branches catch and tear at his clothes.

It was something of a surprise when he collided with someone else.

He bounced back, hearing another scream of terror as the person he'd bumped into hit the ground. A woman, from the sound of her voice and the way she'd felt when she collided with him. Most likely the same one, really. "It's all right," he gasped out, trying to get the wind back into his lungs - she'd hit him hard. He groped out, felt his arms go around the slight figure. "I'm here to..." A head slammed into his nose and he staggered back, vision full of exploding stars.

"Let go!" she screamed, skull smashing into his cheekbone as she tore at his hands. "Leave me be! Help!!"

"I'm not..." Adam croaked out, dazed. "I'm not trying to... to..."

A dark shape eclipsed what little of the moon he could see through the trees, and a rearing horse whinnied and snorted. The woman in his arms went still for a second, and then screamed again. For his own part, Adam felt paralyzed. There was something he should do, right? Something that...

The woman's skull slammed into his face again. This time he staggered back, his grip slipping. She sprinted off through the forest as he gripped the tree, trying to stand upright. The rider came close, lashing out with a booted foot. "Not so tough now," the rider laughed in a familiar voice, "are you, Ichabod? Or Jack, or whatever your real name is." Then the rider was gone, chasing the woman.

Adam shook his head, trying to clear it. "Brom Bones?" he asked the night, staring after the horse. Then he forced himself to start following. He wasn't the horseman, but he'd wager the cooper's journeyman was up to no good.


"This," Jack Sparrow complained to the night, "is not where I should be."

He'd followed the trail for some distance, although exactly how far was hard to gauge, trying to locate Katrina. She'd only come out here with him because he'd encouraged her to do so - led her on, really. So it was his responsibility to find her and bring her home safely. Responsibility was something he'd learned, once he'd stopped pirating, but he'd never enjoyed it. "I should be on a deck, before a mast," he continued, wobbling slightly as he walked. "I should be aboard the Pearl, not traipsing about the forest in pursuit of some slip of a girl. A fine girl at that - really shouldn't be out here with her at all, when you come to that. If I should be out in a dark forest with anyone, it should be with Jenny. A little danger, a little excitement, a little of the old slap and tickle..."

Hoofbeats. Hoofbeats behind him. Had the rider doubled back, planning to take him down before going after Katrina? It'd make sense, and he'd have done it if the situation was reversed. Take out the armed member of the party, and all that. "Not that women can't fight, mind," he murmured. "But let's be honest, Captain...."

...jack...

Jack froze at the sound. The Shadow Thing, death and his fear of death personified. A thing he hadn't heard since his Anne died, but it was speaking to him again now.

...move, jack...

Jack hurled himself aside, tumbling into the underbrush as the rider thundered past. He'd never gotten a good look at the Horseman before, and he didn't get one now - mostly because he was staring at trees and underbrush as the world whirled around him. But he had an impression of a man and mount cloaked in dark witchfire, the same burning along the hatchet tucked into his belt, and he felt the touch of chill fear crawl up his spine. No idiot with a pumpkin, this. No. That was the horseman who'd chased him a century ago. "Bloody hell," he grumbled, untangling himself from a briar. Then he started down the trail at a jog.


Brom grinned as he thundered after Katrina. She was easy to spot, now, with her golden hair shining in the slivers of moonlight. This, he decided, was perfect. He'd heard that the new schoolmaster was interested in ghost stories, and was heading out to the old homestead to get himself a scare or two, and he'd decided to oblige the man. Crane was cutting in where he wasn't wanted, after all - hadn't he seen the man with Katrina, out on the old mill path this afternoon? So he'd decided to put a real scare in the man, chase him out of Sleepy Hollow. And if Crane met with an accident along the way, he'd shed no tears for the man.

But now, Katrina was with him. He smiled hungrily at the thought. Alone with Crane, in the dark. Why, anything might happen. For instance, a certain Brom Bones - devoted and attentive suitor whom she'd led on and teased and blue-balled - might have occasion to sample everything that two-faced slut had teased him with. In the dark, where she wouldn't be able to recognize him. And then? Well, he'd left town earlier that day heading for New York and then doubled back. He'd continue on to New York, and the only possible perpetrator of such a heinous crime would be Ichabod Crane. When he finally returned, Crane would most likely have been hanged as a rapist, and then he could take Katrina into his arms. Assure her that he thought no less of her for falling victim to a monster.

Yes, it was perfect.

His steed caught up with the fleeing girl, and he grabbed for her. She dodged, and he grabbed again. This time he caught her long golden hair and jerked. She shrieked in pain as she fell backwards, and he reigned in his horse. Before she could rise again he was out of the saddle. slapping her back down. She hit the loam and he was on top of her, straddling her hips and pinning her to the earth as he began tearing at her bodice.
 
Pain exploded in Katrina's head as it connected with her assailant's face. She grunted in pain but continued trying to pull away as he protested that it was all alright. A likely story! If he wasn't up to no good then what was he doing skulking around in the woods at night with the Horseman on the loose, and why wouldn't he let go of her? She fell still and looked around wildly when she heard the horse snort and the beat of hooves, but she couldn't see anything in this blasted forest in the dark. Clouds were still over what little moon there was and she couldn't even see the face of the man who held her.

The man who held her...he held her for the Horseman, didn't he?! As the little sliver of moon came out from behind the clouds she could see the outline of an enormous charger rear and whinny and she screamed again. Out of desperation, because it had seemed to have loosened his grip before, she slammed her head into the assailant's face again and took off while he was still reeling. Branches and brambles tore at her skirt and roots tripped her and threatened to make her twist an ankle or worse, but Katrina bolted down the path as fast as she could. It was no use; she could hear the horse fast gaining on her.

Katrina's ankle rolled, causing her to stagger sideways and feel her pursuer's fingers tangle briefly in her hair as she did. He grabbed at her again and a shriek tore from her throat as he jerked her up short by her hair and held her close to his horse. Finally her injured ankle gave out and she fell onto her back, tearing free of her assailant but not for long. He dismounted just as she managed to stagger to her feet and slapped her back down. Katrina felt several cracks in her back as she landed across a root and she wondered briefly whether she had broken her back before finding that she was indeed able to move when he pinned her down and started tearing at her clothes.

"Leave me alone!" she shrieked. "No! Get off! Ichaboood!" Katrina screamed at the top of her lungs, leaving his name echoing in the trees as the hulking man straddled her and the cold air hit her breasts like a splash of icy water. She couldn't see her attacker's face, but she could see that he did indeed have a head. This was no Headless Horseman, but some variety of mortal monster, perhaps some vagrant who was living in the woods. Her heels dug into the dirt as she tried to scramble away though his weight pinned her down. Still, she could move her legs...

In a flash of inspiration Katrina brought her leg up as hard as she could into that tender place every man protects. She felt something crush beneath her knee and heard her attacker wheeze profanities as he rolled onto his side, doubled over in pain. Staggering to her feet, Katrina took off at a limping jog as fast as she could with tears growing cold on her cheeks. Where was Ichabod??

~*~

Hoofbeats on the path and a dark, eerie glow through the mostly bare trees gave Jenny enough warning. She slid down into a ditch and held her breath, waiting as the Horseman rode by. She had a moment of admiration for her husband that he had not only faced this creature, but had gotten away even as a mortal man. Her scalp prickled with fear and a sense of danger and she needed to take a shaky breath before she was able to scramble out of the ditch and back onto the path. If that was the way the Horseman was headed, that was probably the direction Adam had gone.

Jenny had barely started back on the path when someone barreled into her. The two tumbled and wrestled on the ground for a moment before she got the better of him--it was definitely a him, though a slighter him than Adam--and straddled his waist while holding her sword to his throat. The moon had gone behind the clouds again and in the dark it was impossible to see even at this distance. She wasn't even certain it was his throat she was threatening.

"Speak and be recognized," she demanded in a low voice, "or you've got ten seconds to make peace with your God."
 
Adam wasn't close enough to see the full details, but he saw enough. Saw the horseman - Brom Bones - catch up with the fleeing girl and drag her to the ground. He redoubled his efforts as he heard her cries, a clear and lovely voice laced with terror as she called for... Ichabod? The schoolmaster? Realization struck, to a degree. Katrina van Tassel? Had she slipped out here with Ichabod Crane, looking for the horseman as well? No, probably not. More likely, they'd been looking for some privacy. But he wasn't here, and she needed help.

Before he could get close he saw her break away, and he made a quick decision. Brom could wait. Katrina was in far greater need of help. So he sprinted, feeling his lungs burn and his legs ache as he pushed himself to catch up to her. Branches whipped him in the face, slender limbs he couldn't fully evade in the wildly-swinging light of the lantern he still carried. Finally, with a heroic effort, he managed to get close enough to let her see him. "Mistress van Tassel?" he wheezed out, chest laboring as he tried to draw breath. "Are... are you...?"

He could hear a whinny and then a thunder behind him. Half turning, he expected to see Brom regaining his mount. He did, but his blood still froze. Brom was riding at a gallop, running from... from a darkly luminous figure on a midnight-black stallion with hooves that struck dark fire from the earth. And both of them were heading straight for them. Spinning, fatigue forgotten, he grabbed Katrina's hand and started running once more. "Come on! This way!"


Jack went down in a confused tangle, struggling for a better purchase as he and his assailant tumbled and rolled across the ground. He grabbed a fistfull of long hair and pulled, then managed to get a quick jab into what he was betting was a female stomach from the length of the hair and the skirts and the breasts and all, but it ended with him flat on his back and a woman straddling his waist and a razor edge scraping his adam's apple. "Speak and be recognized," his attacker demanded, "or you've got ten seconds to make peace with your God."

"Jenny?" he replied, speaking carefully so she wouldn't accidentally lay his throat open. "My God, love. What are you doing out here? Looking for payback for yesterday already?" The absurdity of the situation, and the naked aggression his wife had displayed, and the brush with danger left him suddenly rock hard. "I hope so, because I don't remember the last time I was this turned on..."

His hands were already exploring the length of her thighs beneath her skirts, when he remembered why he was there. "Oh, fuck," he groaned as reality intruded. "Fuck. Jenny, I'm out here with the van Tassel girl, trying to find the witch. And her bloody damn horseman is riding as well. We need to find her, and quick!"



Slowing for a moment, Adam swung his lantern above his head and hurled it at a nearby tree. It exploded in a shower of glass and metal, the oil igniting as it coated the trunk. Brom's horse wheeled and reared in terror and took off in a different direction. Not waiting to see what the horseman might do, he started running again. "Can... can you see anything?" he asked. "Somewhere we... we can hide?"
 
When she heard him take chase she pushed herself harder. Katrina's ankle throbbed and brought her to the point of tears, but there were worse things threatening her than a broken ankle at the moment. A lantern chased her through the trees which tore at her face and clothes, breasts bare and scratched horribly.

"Go away!" she cried as he gained on her. Or was she just slowing? "I've done nothing to you, leave me be!"

"Mistress van Tassel?" It was that boy from the edge of town. Aaron or Abram or something.

"Wha...?" Katrina slowed to a stop, putting her weight on her good leg and staring in confusion and disbelief. "You...You're the Von Kalt boy, aren't you? What...what are you..."

They both stopped and looked to see the horse coming up behind them. Brom Bones?? She was horribly confused and hurt, but followed as (Abel?) Von Kalt pulled her through the woods once more. She cried out and covered her face with her free arm as he shattered his lantern against a tree and thought they might have a reprieve, but he started running again. Katrina's lungs burned, her legs ached, and her ankle definitely felt like it was more than twisted now, and all she wanted to do was stop and sit, but death pursued them.

"The...the old homestead shack," she panted. "Mist...Mister Crane and I...we thought...maybe that was where...where the horseman came from...But apparently not."

~*~

"John?" Jenny didn't get up but she took away the sword from her husband's throat as she recognized his voice and form--and his dick--in the darkness. At first she didn't know why on earth he was talking about payback, but then his hands ran up her thighs and she couldn't help but smirk. It was tempting to play Red Jenny marooned somewhere, and a forest path wouldn't by a long shot be the strangest place they'd made love. But then he remembered why he was out here and so did she.

"The van Tassel girl?" He explained they were trying to find the witch and she cocked an eyebrow. "Mmhmm. I'm sure that's all she was trying to find, too. We saw the Horseman last night and Adam couldn't leave bloody well enough alone, and I've been here trying to pretend we're looking for a ghost or some waffle." She rose and helped John to his feet, trying to quell the intense jealousy and rage threatening to well up inside her as though the idea hadn't crossed her mind with Adam several times since that afternoon. "He bolted when someone screamed, I'm assuming your rich little trollop. No idea where he went, but I'm sure the Horseman does."
 
Adam was half-carrying Katrina by the time they reached the old, abandoned house. Her twisted ankle had given out and, motivated as she was, she could no longer put her weight on it. As a result, they’d covered the last half mile with her arm around his neck and his arm around her waist in an awkward three-legged race that left his shoulder aching and his lungs burning. Heart hammering, he watched behind them as she fumbled with the door, then helped her through before closing it behind them. “I...” he gasped, “I don’t think... don’t think he... followed us...”

He could have referred to Brom it to the Horseman. It didn’t matter, not right at this moment.

Katrina’s head bobbed once, a shadowy shape adorned with blonde curls. “Right,” she gasped in reply. “Can... can we... lock... the door?”

Fighting the urge to collapse, he felt along the frame. There was still a heavy hinged bar within the door, and he swung it down. “Yeah,” he replied, peering around. The House was a small one, built back when Iroquois raids were a greater fear. Heavy logs chinked with mud, and narrow windows that - he guessed - had once been covered with oiled hide and shutters rather than glass. A solid, tiny fort that smelled of dirt and must. “I... I think we’re safe,” he added, offering her a hand so she could sit on the plank floor. “How... how’s your ankle?”


“I doubt it’s a ghost your Adam is looking for,” Jack shot back, stung by the all too close to home accusation in Jenny’s words. He grunted a little when she clambered off him, and he wasn’t entirely sure that the knuckles that were planted in his solar plexus were entirely innocent and accidental, not after that remark. But she still sheathed her sword and offered him a hand up. “Where did he get off to, anyway?”

“He bolted when someone screamed,” Jenny replied, a little acid in her tone. “I'm assuming your rich little trollop. No idea where he went, but I'm sure the Horseman does."

“She’s not mine, and she’s hardly a trollop,” he replied, a little more sharply than he intended as he tried not to think about how close he’d come to breaking his wedding vows with her. Trying not to think about how much he’d thought about doing it tonight, if the witch wasn’t found. “She’s just a girl with some damned foolish idea that pirates are dashing and romantic. But we’d better get after them both. It’s us that dragged them into this, after all.”

He peered about, trying to get a sense of where to go. “There’s a joker in the deck, though. Someone else is out here as well, masquerading as the Horseman. Dressed all in black, riding a black horse, the works. Caught me off guard and fooled me for a minute, but he’s clearly not the real thing.” In the distance, flames ignited. “That looks promising. Shall we go?”
 
She wasn't being fair and she knew she wasn't. Jenny had fantasized about Adam, even touching herself as she did so, so it wasn't like she had the moral high ground when it came to taking attractive strangers in the forest. But when John called him her Adam she rankled at the accusation. When he argued that Katrina was hardly a trollop she scoffed scornfully.

"Hardly a trollop?" she repeated derisively. "Either you're lying to yourself, John, or you've not learned a single thing about women in nearly two hundred years."

"She's just a girl with some damned foolish idea that pirates are dashing and romantic--"

"Well, you were a dashing and romantic pirate, weren't you?"

"--But we'd better get after them both. It's us that dragged them into this, after all."

Jenny sighed and rubbed her face. "It's all gone tits-up hasn't it?" she agreed. Her chin jutted out in consternation when he mentioned that there was a fraudulent Horseman out there. "Well, I'm more worried about finding Josephine than I am the Horseman. Let him go off like a fool; if we can find the witch before the Horseman gets the kids, we won't have much to worry about." In the distance flames ignited and John proposed they follow them. She took his hand and squeezed it gently, leading the way toward where they'd last seen the flames. They didn't know what would happen if they were killed, much less if they were killed by another supernatural entity, and she didn't much care to find out...but the fae had set them this mission, and maybe they'd be able to get their first "deserving" soul toward John's debt out of whoever was foolish enough to impersonate the Horseman.

~*~

Katrina and the von Kalt boy (Ansel?) staggered haphazardly through the forest, with him taking most of her weight until they finally reached the old homestead. He slammed the door behind them and panted that he didn't think that her attacker had followed them.

"Right," she gasped in reply. "Can...can we...lock...the door?" Wouldn't be much good if they were just sitting ducks in here with no protection. Once she'd heard the clank of the bar swinging over the door she felt his hand in hers as he declared them probably safe. She used to to carefully lower herself down with one leg then slowly stretch the other out so she could hold her ankle straight and still.

"How...how's your ankle?"

Katrina shook her head. "I don't know. I think it might be broken." She reached down and gingerly touched it, though she wouldn't have known what a broken bone felt like in the first place. "What on earth are you doing out here??"
 
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