And there was a washer and dryer, which Abbie assumed would work better for clothing than a hair dryer.

"Thank you, Miss Mills, for your perceptive and sympathetic understanding of my situation. I admit that I have been unwilling to ask for assistance. I am not used to being so very hapless in my daily life. I will make every attempt to not let my pride outweigh my common sense."

Abbie understood how difficult it must have been for him to say that, so she simply nodded once and changed the subject.

"I am pretty impressed that you managed to get yourself a library card, though. I would have thought that you'd need some sort of identification to make that happen."

"Yes, well, the mistress of the borrowing library was at first reluctant, but she seemed to soften after we spoke. I also didn't have the required card of credit, but she seemed willing to allow me access to the books."

The stack of books hidden away in the corner was pretty impressive. He seemed to be reading a number of them simultaneously; the top three had slips of paper marking his place. She moved over to read the names on the spines of the books. The three currently being read were "Volume III: Great inventions of the 1800's," "A History of America: 1800-1899," and "The Founding Fathers." The books underneath were in a similar vein.

"By the time you finish all these books you're going to know more about my history than I do, Crane! Assuming that we get some time to read things that aren't case files about spells and demons and things that go bump in the night."

Abbie was looking through the books toward the bottom of the stack. All the books were from the depths of the non-fiction side of the library. All except one small paperback toward the bottom of the pile. Abbie fished it out.

"Hey, Crane, did you pick this book out?"

"In fact no, the young lady who helped me out of the library suggested it and fetched it for me. She said that she thought that I would enjoy it, but I have yet to find the time to begin to read it."

Abbie raised an eyebrow as she looked at the front of the book. The cover was nondescript, but the title really said it all. "50 Shades of Grey." She sighed. As she held the book loosely a slip of paper fell out from between the pages. Abbie stooped and picked it up, glancing at the writing on it. She couldn't help but smile. Ichabod Crane - the most unwitting ladies man in history.

"Did you see this note from Brandi?"

"Brandy? Is that a name?"

"Yes. Brandi. With an 'i' dotted with a heart."

"Surely you jest, what kind of name is that, and who would do that?"

"Don't worry about it, Crane."

Abbie tucked the book into the large pocket on the inside of her jacket. She'd drop this back at the library later. She really didn't think that Ichabod was ready for this sort of "literature." He would be safer with his history books.

As long as the plot details for "50 Shades of Grey" didn't end up being one of his five questions she'd be fine. Oh dear god she hoped that he would never ask her about that book.

But she was kind of wondering what his five questions to be. As strange as it seemed, she was actually really looking forward to them.