Chapter Text
The music ringing through her ears set her hair on end and sent shivers down her spine, but her heart soared. There was something exhilarating about it echoing around her, as if herself were the music. She found herself humming along, before realizing how absurd it was that she was feeling nostalgic as she seemed to be falling endlessly, but then a landing came, fast, much too fast and Abbie hit the ground hard and rolled across the stage. Startled, she looked up and saw the body of the murder victim, dangling above her. Shock rendered her speechless. That was Irving, with his feet swinging off the floor, and, as Abbie staggered to her feet, light blossomed around her illuminating the stage, the faces of dances, frozen in mid step, faces petrified in fear, and the music kept swelling, she heard clanking and creaking. She turned behind her and saw a massive chandelier, reassembling itself, and lifting, surging back up into the ceiling where it had been fixed before. And then-----
The dancers started moving.
The dancers were Sleepy Hollow citizens. Their costumes changed from ballet to formal grand ball room attire, masquerade masks, waltzing around on the stage. Irving's body, rope and all assembled back into the rafters for a split second and then came hurtling back down in a tux, smiling at her. Abbie swore. "Frank? Frank? is that you?"
He bowed with great flourish. "Scared ya did I Mills?"
"What the hell is this?" she demanded, but even as she began to rage, her uniform began to transform. Her sleeves fell off her shoulders, her pants bloomed into a floor sweeping skirt, with crinoline and tulle, emerald green, trimmed in white lace, her hair began to rearrange and coil itself elegantly in a half knot. Jewels glittered at her ears.
"Sing once again, with me" A voice began to sing, Abbie jumped.
"No,"
"Our strange duet" the pair swirling by her sang to each other, beaming at one another as they circled around. Wait, was that Hawley and Jenny? but they weren't due back in town for two weeks.
"Father once spoke of an angel" That was Gail's voice, twirling hand in hand with a beaming Orion. Their childish faces aglow with the lights beaming down, dressed in their adorable costumes.
"Angel of Music, Guide and Guardian," Macey sailed across the stage with Joe Corbin gliding beside her.
Abbie choked. "Is Macey, dancing?"
Frank smiled. "Cynthia perfected a charm, she's gotten pretty good at this, eh? my girl"
"She did this? what's going on here? there wasn't ever really a murder, was there,"
"Not a one, just an elaborate ruse,"
Abbie gaped in awe of the glittering theatre slowly transforming itself into a grand ball room, marble flooring, a sweeping domed ceiling, and then, of all things, an orchestra appeared, they were switching seamlessly from one song to the next and Abbie's head was spinning.
"Cynthia did this? the music in the halls, and the footsteps and, Corbin! What happened to Corbin! He vanished upstairs!"
Frank stroked his chin thoughtfully "I saw him floating around here with a woman on his arm."
"Woman?"
"Don't trouble yourself, tonight is your night,"
"Speaking of which, what IS this? Who's idea was this? Phantom of the Opera? How on EARTH did---the only person who knew I liked this was---"
and just then, as if on cue, the music for All I Ask of You began to play. The chorus was being sung by the citizens sweeping the room.
No more talk of darkness
Forget these wide-eyed fears
I'm here, nothing can harm you
My words will warm and calm you
That WAS Hawley and Jenny winking at her as they circled the room once more. And Calvin and Caroline were looking cozy and full of possibility, as they waltzed themselves closer to one another.
Let me be your freedom
Let daylight dry your tears
I'm here, with you, beside you
To guard you and to guide you
The room was full to the brim, orchestra, dancers, Cynthia had magicked food somehow but suddenly the crowd cleared a straight path.
And there was Crane.
And he was singing
say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime
Let me lead you from your solitude
Say you need me with you here, beside you
Anywhere you go, let me go too
He glided to a stop in front of Abbie, and sank down on one knee, with simple elegance, extracted the box and popped the lid. "Marry me Abbie, That's all I ask of You,"
Irving moved beside Cynthia, who dressed in a floor length purple gown was waving her arms majestically, conducting the orchestra and the dancers both. Lord knows, none of the people of Sleepy Hollow were natural dancers.
Abbie stared down at him, awestruck. "Oh my God, Ichabod," her knees weakened and she sank to the floor beside him, clasped his hands in hers. "You planned this?"
He nodded, his face smug.
"You faked the murder? got the costumes? the news paper,"
"With the help of all those who love you, Hawley and Jenny came back early with Gail, Corbin agreed to get you here, The Irvings worked their very literal and impressive magic, Caroline got the costumes, Calvin ran the story---" Abbie cut him off with a kiss. The music was still surging around them. Her fingers grasped at his hair, pulling him closer, her heart pounded in her chest. She'd never felt so loved, so cherished. So extravagant. Heavens. She broke off from him but barely moved away, when she spoke, their lips were close enough to touch.
"You remembered, our first musical, that I loved this song,"
"Abbie I remember everything that pertains to you, my love."
She threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply. He made a muffled sound and she withdrew. "You haven't answered the question, treasure,"
"Yes, Ichabod, of course it's Yes," she emphasized. Crane rose to his feet, lifting Abbie with him and with surprisingly trembling fingers slid the ring on her finger.
The room erupted in applause and cheering.
"I Love you, Abbie,"
"I Love you, Ichabod,"
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Corbin congratulated them later with a familiar face on his arm. Abbie's jaw dropped. Jenny ran across the hall to join them. The two sisters spoke in unison.
"Mama?"
Lori smiled weakly. "I'm so sorry, congratulations Abbie, Jenny, I'm so proud of you,"
"This is your mother?"
"How could you not see the resemblance?" Jenny snapped good natured as always. Corbin huffed, clearly flummoxed.
"It doesn't matter, our family has never been more whole, don't you think, Crane?"
Ichabod affectionately nuzzled Abbie's hair, one arm snaking around her waist. "It could still be fuller, if you'd give me the chance,"
"Whoa! Get married first then the babies!" Jenny laughed, teasing the newly engaged couple.
But Abbie and Ichabod were too busy kissing each other senseless for all to see.
I DO NOT own the lyrics nor music to Phantom of the Opera, all credit goes to Andrew Lloyd Weber.