She has no expectations of the office but is delighted when she steps in. Everything looks like it is exactly where it should be. Rebecca has her hands on the windowsill looking out at a bunch of students tossing a frisbee. As it falls to the ground, she opens the window.
“Don’t go for a low release unless you can get your wrist parallel to the ground.” She scoffs. “You disappoint me, Stuart!”
After slamming the window shut, she raises her hands, as if to rid herself of the previous interaction.
“Fucking anthropologists. Social science is not science. I don’t care what anyone says, they can fight me.” Taking brief pause after her outburst, Rebecca notices Jillian in front of her. “Yes. Holtzmann. What can I do for you?”
“I saw your post about needing a T.A.?”
“You and the rest of the department. Listen, our funding got slashed when the Dagorhir team needed new equipment, whatever that means; so I can’t pay you much.”
“I-That’s fine.”
“I can offer you extra lab time and access to my personal equipment if that interests you.”
“It does, yes.”
“Can you promise me you’re not going to blow anything up?”
“I cannot.”
“Your honesty is inspiring. Consider yourself hired.”
///
The 101 kids have taken to referring to Rebecca as Dr. Hardass; though they appreciate Holtzmann’s in-depth notes on their papers, and watching her constantly put herself in harm’s way during lab demonstrations.
Dr. Gorin has taken a shine to Holtzmann also - so much so that she finds herself looking for excuses to spend all their extra lab time together. She appreciates Jillian’s fearlessness and commitment to projects; personal and otherwise. They make a great team: Gorin’s experience, and Holtzmann’s willingness to think outside the box.
Rebecca makes a point to add in a note of thanks when it’s inappropriate to co-credit Jillian on her journal publications. They’ve come to find each other as an invaluable resource, and things fall into a comfortable groove.
Naturally, Dr. Gorin talks the department into funding the rest of Holtzmann’s PhD fellowship as soon as she’s able. It involves a bit of finagling, but they schedule a meeting with the committee to demonstrate her latest idea.
“Bear in mind, it’s just a prototype.” She pulls a firearm-shaped object from her back pocket, the room gasps. “Oh, this thing is harmless. I’m working with thermal imaging to create a more accurate, less invasive stun-gun.”
She hands her device to a confused committee chairperson.
“Right now it only works up to 200 feet. I’m hoping we can up the juice to get it to a mile radius.”
“Excuse me?”
“The scope locks onto the target, once it gets a proper read, it can freeze the item in question until released. Let me see.” Holtzmann takes the gun, points it at one of the chairpeople and fires.
“Jesus, Holtzmann!” Gorin interjects. Her colleague is in fact, frozen in place at the table. The rest of the committee is shocked; some confused, some amused.
“Just like hitting pause on a VHS. Pretty neat, huh?” Jillian presses another button, and immediately the chairperson slumps over in their seat, stifling the urge to vomit. “Theoretically speaking, this could be a game changer. Right now it’s just one of my side projects.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, I urge you to consider letting Holtzmann continue her studies here at the University. If we don’t keep a close eye on her, she might become a comic book villain and trust me, nobody wants that.”
“I don’t even want that.” Holtzmann postures, “I feel with Dr. Gorin’s continued guidance, my contributions to the future of modern science could be invaluable.”
“Or incredibly dangerous.” Holtzmann’s earlier victim has regained their composure, and mutters under their breath.
“We’ll get back to you both within the next few weeks.”
“Thank you for your time.” Rebecca places her hand on the small of Jillian’s back, guiding her out of the room before finding another opportunity to make further fools of either of them.
Soon after, a letter arrives in Dr. Gorin’s office: she is to keep Jillian on a tight leash, and the school reserves the right to patent any designs conceptualized while she’s finishing her program. They both roll their eyes, but accept the contingencies and continue to work together.
///
Holtzmann accepts a job pending the defense of her dissertation.
Dr. Gorin is sad to see her protégé leave the nest as it were, but insists Jillian take the job. If only for the health insurance.
“Remember that time you almost blew your arm off with non-dairy coffee creamer?”
“Classic.” The incident in question was a total rookie mistake, but a proud accomplishment nonetheless. No students caught fire, and everyone high-fived before class was dismissed.
Dr. Gorin insists they meet for a celebratory drink the evening after Holtzmann’s successful defense. She brings a small box, orders a whiskey, neat, and sits on her normal barstool. As Jillian walks through the door, Rebecca takes a sip and stands to greet her now-former student.
“Congratulations Dr. Holtzmann.” She hands her the box. Inside are a fresh pair of goggles with a yellow tint. “That time you got pink eye was because no one sterilizes the fucking goggles in the lab.”
Jillian can’t contain herself any longer. She pulls her mentor in for a brief, but amorous kiss.
Dr. Gorin is flushed: “Fuck. This has been gay this whole time, hasn’t it?”
“Extremely.” With this revelation, Rebecca hits her forehead. Jillian tucks a stray wisp of hair behind Rebecca’s ear. “We still have a few weeks to consummate it before I have to leave…”
It is as though the heavens have parted. Dr. Gorin can see no professional conflict, given the circumstance.
“God, yes. Immediately.”