Sleepy Hollow Fanfic: "A Feast Fit For A Crane"
Title: A Feast Fit For A Crane
Fandom: Sleepy Hollow
Author: HalfshellVenus
Characters: Ichabod, Abbie (Gen)
Rating: G
Summary: The definition of 'food' may have changed over the centuries while Ichabod slept.
Author's Notes: A Yuletide Madness treat for i_am_girlfriday.
x-x-x-x-x.
"That," Ichabod proclaimed, "cannot possibly be edible."
Abbie Mills had gotten used to Ichabod's amazement at the bounty offered by a simple neighborhood grocery store. Ichabod, however, did not fully grasp the mechanics of modern packaging. "You pull the plastic covering off first, then dip the cracker sticks in the cheese," she said.
"Cheese?" Ichabod regarded the receptacle's rubbery orange contents with horror. "That is nothing like the cheese with which I am familiar."
Abbie bit the orange-covered end off of one of the sticks. "I don't recall saying you had to eat any of it."
"No," Ichabod admitted. "Not precisely."
"You're welcome to my apple, if you like. I'm sure it's a food you recognize."
"Not in this particular color, although I'm certain the general principal is the same." Ichabod took a bite out of the apple, his brow furrowing. He took another. "It is strangely tasteless. Are all apples thus, nowadays? The one you purchased from the roadside Market of Mornings and Evenings-"
"AM/PM," Abbie interjected.
"-was very much like this. Flat and rather dull."
Abbie gave him a look.
"Still, I suppose it will do well enough." Ichabod took another half-hearted bite.
"You're welcome," Abbie said.
"Ah. Yes," Ichabod, said, "I have quite forgotten my manners. Of course. Thank you, Miss Mills."
"Any time."
Abbie read through crime reports while Ichabod paced the room. He finally stopped. "Perhaps I should venture out toward the shops, and purchase a meal."
"And how were you planning to pay for it?" Abbie asked. "Dubloons? If you're still hungry, I can give you some quarters for the vending machine."
"That infernal contraption in the cellar?"
Abbie put down the file she was reviewing. "Honestly, Ichabod. Why do you get so worked up about these things?"
"I believe that monstrosity could devour your desk. And very well might."
"So, no quarters, then?"
"Well," Ichabod said, looking somewhat sheepish. "Perhaps a few. Just this once."
"Uh-huh," Abbie said, suppressing a smile. "That's what I thought."
----- fin -----
Fandom: Sleepy Hollow
Author: HalfshellVenus
Characters: Ichabod, Abbie (Gen)
Rating: G
Summary: The definition of 'food' may have changed over the centuries while Ichabod slept.
Author's Notes: A Yuletide Madness treat for i_am_girlfriday.
x-x-x-x-x.
"That," Ichabod proclaimed, "cannot possibly be edible."
Abbie Mills had gotten used to Ichabod's amazement at the bounty offered by a simple neighborhood grocery store. Ichabod, however, did not fully grasp the mechanics of modern packaging. "You pull the plastic covering off first, then dip the cracker sticks in the cheese," she said.
"Cheese?" Ichabod regarded the receptacle's rubbery orange contents with horror. "That is nothing like the cheese with which I am familiar."
Abbie bit the orange-covered end off of one of the sticks. "I don't recall saying you had to eat any of it."
"No," Ichabod admitted. "Not precisely."
"You're welcome to my apple, if you like. I'm sure it's a food you recognize."
"Not in this particular color, although I'm certain the general principal is the same." Ichabod took a bite out of the apple, his brow furrowing. He took another. "It is strangely tasteless. Are all apples thus, nowadays? The one you purchased from the roadside Market of Mornings and Evenings-"
"AM/PM," Abbie interjected.
"-was very much like this. Flat and rather dull."
Abbie gave him a look.
"Still, I suppose it will do well enough." Ichabod took another half-hearted bite.
"You're welcome," Abbie said.
"Ah. Yes," Ichabod, said, "I have quite forgotten my manners. Of course. Thank you, Miss Mills."
"Any time."
Abbie read through crime reports while Ichabod paced the room. He finally stopped. "Perhaps I should venture out toward the shops, and purchase a meal."
"And how were you planning to pay for it?" Abbie asked. "Dubloons? If you're still hungry, I can give you some quarters for the vending machine."
"That infernal contraption in the cellar?"
Abbie put down the file she was reviewing. "Honestly, Ichabod. Why do you get so worked up about these things?"
"I believe that monstrosity could devour your desk. And very well might."
"So, no quarters, then?"
"Well," Ichabod said, looking somewhat sheepish. "Perhaps a few. Just this once."
"Uh-huh," Abbie said, suppressing a smile. "That's what I thought."
----- fin -----