The first time Erin and Holtzmann are mistaken for a couple, Erin doesn’t really think anything of it.
They’re sitting around a table on the first floor of the firehouse eating lunch when it happens. Holtzmann is gone. She’s on one of her ‘super secret errands’ that she always returns from with a nondescript black duffle bag slung over her shoulder that clangs when it hits the side of her body. They’re all approximately 96% convinced ‘super secret errand’ is code for ‘purchasing black-market supplies from someone in an alleyway,’ but they turn a blind eye (mostly so they won’t get arrested as accomplices when she finally gets caught).
Erin carefully selects a slice of cheese pizza from one of the open boxes as Kevin slides into one of the empty chairs.
“I thought I’d join you guys for second lunch today,” he says brightly.
“Was first lunch not satisfactory enough?” Abby says, then tears off a large mouthful of pizza from the slice in her hand.
Kevin either misses the sarcastic remark, or ignores it. Probably the former. He pauses with his hand over a box and surveys the table with a confused look on his face, his mouth moving silently as he…counts? “Where’s the other one?” He picks up a slice, then points it at Erin. “Uhh…you know, Erin’s girlfriend. What’s her name?”
Erin, who has just taken a bite of her pizza, starts choking. Patty reaches out and claps her hard on the back. Eyes watering and throat burning, Erin croaks, “What?”
Kevin frowns. “The little one, with the hair.” He gestures wildly around the top of his head.
“Holtzmann?” Abby says, wheezing with laughter.
He waves his pizza at her. “Yes! Where is she?”
“Holtz is not…oh my God, Kevin. Holtz isn’t my girlfriend! Why would you think that?” Erin says. She needs to raise her voice to be heard over the barking laughter of Patty and Abby.
“I…I don’t know.” Kevin’s perpetual expression of confusion becomes more pronounced.
“Kevin, I hit on you, like, all the time,” Erin says.
“I know,” he says, like it’s obvious. Which it is. “I thought you wanted to have a threesome with me. And I’m flattered, but my boyfriend is allergic to other people. I’m really sorry, Erin.”
Abby and Patty start laughing even harder. Erin just stares, open-mouthed, and of course that’s the exact moment that Holtz returns. She strides in the door and deposits her black bag onto the ground, takes in the scene, and comes to lean on the back of Erin’s chair.
“What’d I miss?” she says, grinning widely.
Abby’s laughter has turned to silent laughter, tears in her eyes as she clutches her sides. Erin’s mouth opens and closes like a fish as she tries to come up with words.
“There you are, boss!” Kevin lights up, then his face goes solemn. “I was just telling Erin that unfortunately, I’m going to have to decline your offer.”
“For?” she says, and you can tell by her manic grin that she can’t wait to hear whatever it is he’s cooked up this time.
“No, Kevin, don’t—”
Kevin cuts off Erin before she can finish. “A threesome with you and Erin. Thank you for considering me, though. I know you have a lot of choices.”
“Oh, Kev,” Holtz says, and her lips twist up into an expression of pure glee. She cackles and clamps her hand down onto Erin’s shoulder. “When were you going to tell me, Erin?”
Erin ducks out of her grasp. “I didn’t…you guys are getting way too much enjoyment out of this,” she says indignantly.
“Come—on—Erin,” Abby gets out in between sharp inhales as she struggles to get ahold of herself, “this—shit—is—gold.”
“This is the funniest fucking shit I’ve heard all month,” Patty agrees, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Oh my God,” Erin says. “Kevin, I never asked you for a threesome, nor would I, and Holtzmann and I are not a couple.”
Holtz leaves her place behind Erin’s chair and comes to sit across the table, snagging a piece of pizza on her way. She plunks herself down, throws her boots up on the table, and winks at Erin. “She wishes.”
It’s only later, when Abby and Patty have finally stopped laughing and most of the pizza is gone, that Erin finds herself wondering what on earth gave Kevin the idea that her and Holtz were dating.
It’s Kevin, though, so she doesn’t linger on it for too long. He also thinks that corned beef is a vegetable, that a tiger is a female lion, and that South America is part of the USA. It’s best not to overthink anything that comes out of his mouth.
The second time it happens, Erin almost doesn't notice.
They get a ghost call one afternoon from some guy who has a benevolent (but scary none-the-less) entity haunting his apartment. Whenever it's an easy job like this one, they only send half the team on the bust. If the four of them can stop an apocalypse by themselves, then two of them can handle a single ghost.
It's usually Erin and Holtzmann who go on calls like this one, because...well, Erin's not sure why, actually. They just do.
The bust is easy, almost boring, but that doesn't stop the ghost from ectoprojecting all over Erin at the last second before she steers it into Holtzmann's waiting trap. She lets out a loud, exasperated sigh as she wipes the goo from her eyes.
They head into the kitchen, where the guy who called them is waiting.
"You, sir, are officially apparitionless," says Holtz, lifting the smoking trap as proof.
"Thank you. Oh my God, you guys are the best." The guy is young, sporting what can only be described as hipster glasses, and dark untidy hair. His apartment is covered in posters and he has various shelves covered in action figures and other collectibles. There's even a cardboard cutout of a superhero that Erin doesn't recognize in the corner. And on the fridge--
"Is that a Ghostbusters magnet?" Erin says.
He looks behind him and when he turns back his chest is going blotchy and red. "Uh. Yes. I'm a big fan of your work. You guys are so, so cool. I actually changed my master's thesis to be about the paranormal. I haven't figured out what exactly, yet, but I've been using Ghosts from Our Past as a primary source for a lot of my research, and it's just so fascinating, all of it. If you...if you're ever looking for a research assistant, or even, like, someone to answer your phones or mop your floors, I would be so honoured to work alongside you. I admire you so much."
Erin and Holtz have been listening to this all in silence: Holtz with an amused smile and Erin with a slightly apprehensive one. The guy could be creepy, but he doesn't sound creepy, he sounds...enthusiastic. And intimidated.
"Well, we already have an excellent receptionist," Holtz says, "and my partner-in-slime here does a pretty stellar job of cleaning HQ. But if a position ever comes up, we'll give you a shout."
At some point while saying all this, Holtz slides an arm around Erin's waist and rests her chin on her slime-covered shoulder. She seems to realize just how much ectoplasm is on Erin at that moment, because without moving her head, she reaches her other hand up and starts wiping the goo from Erin's face and smearing it on her own jumpsuit.
"Thank you!" the guy gushes. He watches them for several seconds, Holtz' hand now methodically combing through Erin's hair to remove the ectoplasm there. He smiles. "You guys are cute.”
At first Erin thinks he means individually, like they're both attractive. But there's something about the way he said it that sounds like he meant they're cute as a collective. A lot of men have said those words to the Ghostbusters, but he didn't say it as a diminutive, like he doesn't respect them. He said it earnestly. Which leaves one option...he meant that they're cute together. Together, together.
A very warm feeling spreads through her chest. Erin is suddenly very conscious of Holtz' arm around her and the tickle of her hair against her cheek. She should correct him, she really should. Why doesn’t she want to?
Holtz doesn't seem to have heard the guy. She straightens up finally and says something that Erin doesn't catch, because she's too busy trying to sort through the implications of the way her heart fell when Holtzmann let go of her waist.
She keeps thinking all the way back to the Ecto-3 (Holtz' stolen motorcycle that they recovered from the Mercado remains the Ecto-2). Holtz speeds off, and Erin is about to ask what she made of the guy's comment when Holtz speaks.
"So, how much do you wanna bet that dude summoned a ghost just so he could meet us?" She grins over at Erin.
"Oh, he totally did," Erin replies with a laugh.
They spend the rest of the drive back to the firehouse debating the logistics of such a plan, and Erin forgets all about the incident.
The third time, there's no ambiguity, no mistaking the mistake.
Holtz and Erin are on another two-person bust, this time at a travel agency. They take down the spectre (a gangly thing that was knocking over all the brochure racks) with ease, and then sit in the office of the manager while she writes them a cheque.
"If you guys are ever in the mood for a holiday, I can get you some excellent deals as a thank you for this. Just name the location.”
Holtzmann has her feet up on the desk (no matter how many times Erin tries to convince her that it’s unprofessional, she still refuses to listen) and she’s examining a poster of a tropical-looking beach on the wall of the office. “I’d be down for a vacation.”
Erin looks at her. “Seriously? Most days you can’t even handle leaving your work to go home for the night. You’re telling me you could go on an actual vacation?”
Holtz tears her eyes away from the poster and shrugs, shooting Erin a lopsided smile. “Yeah. They’re totally different. Home is boring. Vacations are exciting.”
“True.” Erin contemplates lying on a beach somewhere warm. No work, no ghosts. She hasn’t been on a holiday in years. She was too busy with her quest for tenure to even consider leaving the state, aside from a handful of trips back to Michigan to see her parents. Those visits were far from holidays, though. And ever since she joined the Ghostbusters, she’s lucky to even get a day off. Ghosts don’t care about labour laws.
“Well, if you ladies are interested,” the manager says, interrupting Erin from her beach daydreams, “there’s this fabulous couples retreat in California that’s so exclusive that they’re already booked through this time next year. But I’m confident I could get you two in, you being national heroes and all.”
Erin nearly chokes. Couples retreat? That warm, bubbly feeling is back, just like when that guy called them cute.
Holtz turns to look at Erin with wide, gleeful eyes. “Didya hear that, Gilbert?”
“We’re…we’re not…” Erin stammers.
“Really in a position to fly across the country right now,” Holtz cuts in. “We can’t leave the rest of our team. What if there’s another near-apocalypse? Thanks for the offer, though. When we think we can swing a vacation, we’ll come a knockin’.”
The manager slides her business card across the desk with the cheque. “Wonderful. I wrote my personal number on the back, there. Don’t hesitate to call me anytime.” She looks directly at Holtz when she says this.
Holtz takes the card and cheque and tucks them into the breast pocket of her jumpsuit. She gives the woman a salute and rises from her chair.
Outside, Erin wastes no time before jumping at Holtz. “What was that?”
“Hmm?” Holtz is distracted loading their proton packs into the back of the hearse.
“Why didn’t you tell her we weren’t a couple?” Erin presses.
Holtz shuts the back of the hearse and leans against it, smirking. “I had my reasons.”
“Which were?” Why is Erin’s heartbeat accelerating?
“Jealousy’s a powerful tool,” Holtz says. She pulls the business card from her pocket and hands it to Erin with a wink, then she strides around to get into the car.
Erin flips the card over and reads the writing on the back.
I could take you on a real trip, if you know what I mean ;)
Below that, the manager’s phone number. And a little heart, for good measure.
Holtz sticks her head out the window. “You coming?”
Erin slides into her seat, holding the business card gingerly between her fingers like it might explode. “You pretended we were a couple so you could get a woman’s number? That’s…so stupid.” Not as stupid as how much the whole situation is bothering Erin.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Holtz grins and starts the car.
Erin sighs and tries to hand her the card, but Holtz shakes her head.
“Don’t want it.”
“You’re not going to call her?” Erin says, surprised, “After all that?”
“Nooooope. That was just for fun.” She sends Erin a lazy smirk before shifting the car into drive.
The whole drive back to the firehouse, Erin attempts to understand why she feels so relieved that Holtz isn’t going to call the woman: stuck on how the thought of going to a couple’s retreat with Holtz makes her feel tingly and strange and excited.
It’s just because she’s desperate for a vacation, that’s all.
She doesn't want to date Holtz. She doesn't want to date Holtz.
She wants to date Holtz.
Erin Gilbert, doctor of particle physics, is a good scientist. Which means, more than anyone, she knows that it would be beyond unprofessional to ignore information and bend data so it yields the results she wants.
Even if the results she wants would make her life a whole lot easier.
So far she has two data points to consider—three, if you include the Kevin fiasco, but at the time she didn’t take it seriously enough for it to count. Two instances where someone thought she and Holtz were a couple. Two instances where her chest got inexplicably warm and fuzzy and happy tingles radiated through her.
Two data points is not enough to draw a firm conclusion, Erin decides, so tonight she's further testing her 'I want to date Holtz' hypothesis.
They're out at a bar, which they don't do that frequently—only on a Friday night if they've had a particularly successful week of busts, which they have this week. The four of them are tucked into a corner booth, Abby and Patty on one side, Holtz and Erin on the other.
Erin is sitting a lot closer to Holtz than she normally would. The length of their thighs and upper arms are touching. If Holtz comments on it, she's going to blame the alcohol. Holtz doesn't comment on it. She seems relaxed. She always seems relaxed.
Erin isn't relaxed. She’s very warm and it feels like electric currents are passing from Holtz' body to Erin's, despite the multiple layers—especially considering how Holtz dresses—of fabric between them.
Finally, she can't take it any more and excuses herself to go get another drink.
"I'll come with," Holtz says, standing as well.
They reach the bar and order, then stand there awkwardly, not saying anything to one another.
A man sidles up to Erin. "Hey there," he says timidly.
She startles, then takes a good look at him. Clean cut, neat hair, sharply dressed, warm smile. Once upon a time, he would've been her type.
"Hi," she squeaks.
"I'm Nick. What's your name?"
"Erin. With an E."
He smiles and extends his hand to shake hers. "Can I, uh, buy you a drink?"
"I, um..." She trails off as the bartender chooses that moment to put down her and Holtzmann's drinks.
She feels a warm hand on her back for a second. "I'm gonna head back. Have fun," Holtz says in her ear. Then she grabs her drink and strolls back to their table.
Erin watches her. And watches her. Then she remembers the man in front of her.
"I think I'm okay with this one. Thank you, though," she says, picking up her drink.
The man—Nick—is staring at her with a slightly disappointed look on his face. "That your girlfriend?" he says.
Yes.
The answer jumps into Erin's head so fast that it surprises her. She blinks a few times, then coughs and shakes her head, maybe a little too aggressively.
"No."
But her eyes dart back over to their table. Holtz is watching her with an amused expression. When Erin meets her eyes, Holtz mouths something that Erin can't make out and then gives her a thumbs up.
The man follows her gaze. "Um. Okay. Well. I'm just gonna go. It was nice talking to you."
He leaves. Erin stands there for a few seconds, then heads back to the table. She slides into her spot next to Holtz.
"What happened?" Holtz demands.
"Nothing happened," Erin replies, probably too defensively, "I just wasn't interested."
"Why not? He's totally your type," Abby says from the other side of the table.
"No he's not," Erin mutters, taking a big swig from her drink.
"No?" Patty looks across the bar at the guy. "You sure? He seems very...Erin."
"What does that mean?" Erin frowns.
"Oh, you know," Abby says with a wave of her hand.
"So if he's not your type, what is?" Holtz says before Erin can press further. She twists to face Erin and leans onto the table with an intrigued smile.
Erin feels her face go red. "Um. A little less...boring. More interesting. And unique. And confident."
She's very purposely looking everywhere but at Holtzmann.
"Really?" Abby sounds surprised.
"Well you know what they say, opposites attract," Holtz says, and Erin can hear the smirk in her voice.
Erin looks at her finally. "Are you implying I'm boring?"
Holtz hums like she's debating the answer.
"Don't answer that, Holtzy," Patty says. "I understand what you mean though, Erin. That guy looked like 'quiet missionary sex' type who collects stamps or some shit. You can do better. Unless you're into that."
"Didn't we just establish—no, you know what, we're not talking about this any more."
"Relax, Gilbert, we're just messing with you." Holtz knocks her shoulder against Erin's. "You can date any weirdo you want. No judging."
Any weirdo? Is she sure?
Hypothesis confirmed: she wants to date Holtzmann. Now what?
"So tell me, how does it feel knowing that you ladies are keeping New York safe? Is that a lot of pressure?"
The four Ghostbusters exchange glances.
“I don’t think any of us really think about it that way. We’re just studying a subject we love and if we can make the city safer while we do it, then that’s really amazing,” Abby says.
Nods of agreement all around.
They’re doing their first television interview since the Rowan apocalypse. People have been begging them left right and centre, but they’ve been turning every interview down. They’re still technically supposed to be maintaining a low profile. It’s not working. This became especially evident when one of the most acclaimed talk-show hosts in the country contacted them and asked to do a special on them. After a meeting with the mayor’s office, they were cleared to do it. They were also assigned a PR person—an angular woman who looks like she’s just stepped in dog poo 99% of the time—to coach them and make sure they don’t say anything bad.
So far, they’re doing pretty well. Erin’s been mostly keeping quiet, because she gets flustered really easily. Holtz has also been fairly quiet, at the request of Linda the PR Lady, who seems to think that viewers might not understand Holtz’ ‘brand of humour.’ The rest of them tried to argue that, but Holtz seemed more than happy to agree. There was a subtle glint in her eye that probably meant she had something up her sleeve, but they pretended not to notice.
She hasn’t said anything yet. She is, however, slouched down in her seat so far that her butt is completely off it. She’s also been obsessively drinking from the mug of water in her hand and making ridiculous faces at everything the others say.
Erin, on the other hand, is sitting ramrod straight in her chair and bouncing her leg nervously. The interview is taking place in the firehouse, and the familiarity of the venue is easing her nerves a little, but there are a billion people and bright lights and cameras and she can feel the heavy layer of foundation that a makeup artist applied to her face being sweat off more and more with every passing minute. At least they’re not live. If anything too bad happens, maybe she can pay off the editors so they’ll remove it.
“Erin,” the interviewer says, and Erin jumps at the sound of her name, “you were a professor at Columbia before joining the Ghostbusters, correct? Do you ever miss teaching or wish you were back there?”
Her throat is very dry. “Uhh…” Her voice cracks. “I was, yes. Um. I miss it sometimes, I guess, but I’d rather work with the Ghostbusters.”
“And you, Patty, you were working for the MTA before this…” The interviewer continues, but Erin tunes her out, relief flooding through her that she spoke without making a fool of herself.
Her leg continues to bounce. Holtzmann happens to look over and notice, and reaches out to rest her hand on Erin’s thigh in an attempt to still it.
Erin freezes. Holtz pats her thigh a couple of times, gives her a reassuring smile, and withdraws her hand. Erin feels like she had the wind knocked out of her. She finds herself wishing Holtz would put her hand back, and her face starts to turn pink. On TV. Oh God, the entire world is going to see her lose her shit when Holtz touches her.
The interview ploughs on ahead, and mercifully Erin doesn’t get asked any more questions. Abby talks for a while, too long probably, about some of the science behind their work, and Erin can practically see it going over the heads of everyone in the room. Patty recounts the details of one of their more exciting recent busts. Holtz slouches further in her chair.
The interviewer consults her notes. They must be nearing the end of the sit-down interview. There’s only so much to ask, and they still need to film a tour of the firehouse and do a weapons demonstration in the alley.
“Now, you ladies are all clearly good friends,” the interviewer says.
More nods and smiles. Holtzmann finally sits up, and stretches her arm over the back of Erin’s chair.
“Has that helped or hindered you, as a team?”
“It’s definitely helped,” Abby says, “We all work really well together. At this point we can practically read each others’ minds, which is helpful when we’re out on a bust.”
“We only get on each others’ nerves sometimes,” Patty says, shooting a loving smile down the row at the rest of them.
They all laugh, and the interviewer chuckles along with them. “And you’ve known each other for a long time, correct?”
“I’ve known Erin since high school, and Holtzmann for about five years. I’ve only known Patty for less than a year, but I feel like I’ve known her forever,” Abby says.
Patty nods her agreement. “I feel like I’ve known these guys my whole life.”
The interviewer smiles. “And did the team dynamic change when romance bloomed for two of you?”
“Sorry?” Abby says.
“Has Erin and Jillian’s relationship affected the team dynamic at all?”
They all go silent. Erin can hear a very loud buzzing in her ears. She’s so warm. The cameras are staring at her. She feels like she’s going to pass out.
Holtz snorts, loudly. Loud enough that Erin can hear it over the buzzing. “Erin and I are one hundy percent not dating.”
“Oh?” The interviewer, clearly flustered, looks down at her notes. “I’m so sorry. How completely unprofessional of me. Whoever gave me this information will be let go, I can assure you. This is very embarrassing.”
Erin hasn’t said anything. She’s staring straight ahead, her mouth hanging open, praying that this is all a nightmare that she’s going to wake up from.
“And of course, this will be edited out of the special. I’m so sorry,” the interviewer adds.
Erin tries to arrange her face into some sort of normal expression. She doesn’t hear anything as the interviewer runs through some closing remarks, clearly having decided that the interview portion is over. Then the cameras turn off and they all stand.
The interviewer hurries over. “I’m so sorry that happened,” she says to Holtz and Erin.
“No worries. Right, Erin?” Holtz places her hand lightly on Erin’s arm.
“Excuse me, I need to go check on…bathroom,” Erin blurts. She stumbles away from Holtz and all but runs in the direction of the bathroom, fully aware that she just spewed nonsense.
She locks the door and leans against it, breathing heavily. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and she’s all sweat and red blotches and anxiety. Just how she wants to look for her first real television appearance. What if her parents see this?
A knock on the door makes her jump out of her skin. Oh no. Please don’t be—
“Erin?”
Of course. Of course it’s her. Erin wonders if she can pretend she’s not there.
“I can hear you breathing in there, Gilbert. Open the door.”
Erin sighs, turns, and unlocks the door to reveal Holtz standing there. She pushes past into the room and pulls the door shut behind her.
“Why ya being weird about this?” Holtz says.
“How are you not being weird about this? It’s weird! Admit that it’s weird! How are you so unfazed by the fact that we keep being mistaken for a couple?” Erin’s sounding more hysterical by the second, she realizes. She sucks in a big breath of air.
Holtz shrugs, a little smile on her lips. “I think it’s funny.”
“It was funny the first four times, now it’s—”
“You’ve been counting?” Holtz’ smile becomes more pronounced.
Erin groans. “Just…nevermind. At least this time you actually set the record straight.”
“Funny, I usually set things the opposite of straight.”
“Now is not the time for gay jokes, Holtzmann.”
“It’s always the time for gay jokes.”
“I’m leaving.” Erin pushes past Holtz and leaves the bathroom. She finds the others down the hall and hopes that she looks more normal than she feels.
Abby’s suspicious look tells her otherwise. “You okay?”
“Never better,” Erin replies, “Let’s do this.”
The firehouse tour and weapon demonstration go off without a hitch. Erin hovers in the background, watching as Holtz’ eyes light up while she demonstrates each piece of tech on the fake ghost target. The interviewer asks if they can let a ghost out of the containment unit, and when Abby shakes her head and says that a man died last time, she lets out a bark of laughter. Clearly, homeland security did a thorough job of covering that story up. Probably for the best. Sometimes Erin wonders if she could actually be convicted of murder for that one, seeing as she was the one who let the ghost out.
Later, after the interviewer shakes all their hands and apologizes one more time, and the crew clears out with all their junk, the four of them flop onto the downstairs couch.
“That was exhausting,” Patty says.
Holtz says, “I failed.” They all look at her. “I was trying to see how far down in my chair I could sit before I could get her to laugh. That woman must have the composure of a rock, because I was practically on the floor before I finally gave up.”
“So that’s what you were doing. I thought you were just trying to be a pain in the ass to piss off Linda,” Abby says.
“I’m a PR nightmare, aren’t I,” Holtz says thoughtfully.
Erin listens to them natter away without really hearing any of it. She only returns to the real world when someone says her name. “Hmm?”
“We’re going for drinks to celebrate our first major interview. You down?” Patty says.
“I’m going to head home, actually. I have some stuff I need to do,” Erin says, and rises from the couch.
She ignores their pouts and goes to get her coat and purse. Soon she’s heading out the door and calling a goodbye over her shoulder.
At her apartment, she changes into sweats and an old t-shirt and curls up on her couch with her laptop. She opens a new browser window—Incognito mode, just to be safe—and her fingers hesitate over the keyboard.
Erin Gilbert and Jillian Holtzmann she types into the search bar finally.
She hits enter with a feeling in her gut that’s telling her she’s going to regret this. The page loads instantly, and she squints at the screen. The first few links are just regular articles about the Ghostbusters. Halfway down the screen, there’s an article from a trashy entertainment website. She clicks on it.
GHOSTBUSTERS OR HEARTBUSTERS?
Love is in the air for Ghostbusters members Erin Gilbert and Jillian Holtzmann! The pair were spotted on Friday night sharing a late-night slice of pizza. And that’s not all they were sharing, if you catch our drift.
Erin wrinkles her nose and scrolls down to the picture. There’s the pizza joint in question, and through the window Erin and Holtz are visible. They’re standing in line and Holtz has her hand on Erin’s arm. Erin has her head tilted back, mid laugh. Erin remembers that night. Abby and Patty were outside in the car. They had just come from a late night bust, and they were all starving, so Erin and Holtz had popped in to buy them each a slice of pizza. That was it. They were in the shop for all of five minutes.
Erin stares at the photo, and unsettling feeling in her stomach. Do paparazzi actually take photos of them? How frequently? She’s never even seen someone with a camera. Is she just that unobservant?
She leaves the article and keeps searching. She wants to know why that interviewer, or anyone really, thinks they’re dating.
Minutes turn into hours and she’s spiraled into an endless hole of Youtube videos. She’s watching one that was clearly taken on someone’s phone. It was after a particularly big bust. As they walk out onto the street with the ghost trap, Holtz throws her arm around Erin and says something in her ear. The video was taken and posted a while ago, and Erin doesn’t remember what Holtz says. A few seconds later, Erin cracks up in the video, so it must’ve been funny.
Pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers, Erin closes out of the browser and shuts her laptop. After watching dozens of videos and perusing a terrifying number of paparazzi photos, she’s starting to see why rumours are churning. And God, nobody even hears the way Holtz flirts with Erin in private.
Erin slumps back into the couch. She needs to sit down and talk with Holtz about all this. That’s what she has to do. She can’t let this continue, not in public at least. What if her parents turn on the news one day and see somebody discussing it? They wouldn’t approve, she knows that much. Maybe she can ask Holtz to tone down the physical contact when they’re in public. That’s not too much to ask, right?
She ignores the sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of losing that closeness with Holtz, but her mind is made up. She’s going to get this all sorted out. Everyone has got her believing that her and Holtz are supposed to be together, but she knows that isn’t true. The feeling of wanting to date Holtz will subside.
Right?
Erin strides in through the door of the firehouse and heads right upstairs to Holtzmann’s lab. The engineer is already working, music blasting (Bonnie Raitt’s ‘Something to Talk About’), and Erin has to shout to get her attention.
“What’s up, Gilbert?” Holtz turns down the music.
“Can we talk?”
“Absolutely positootly,” Holtz says.
“I’m gonna need you to be serious, Holtzmann.”
“Ruh roh. Did you find the hole I accidentally singed in your jacket? It looked expensive, so I probably can’t buy you a new one, but I could patch it up for you.”
“You…what?” Erin frowns, shaking her head. “Okay, we’ll talk about that later. No, it’s about something else. Can I sit?”
Holtz nods her assent and Erin pulls up a chair. “So,” she begins, running through her carefully prepared speech in her head, “It turns out that the entire world thinks we’re dating.”
“Reeaaally?” Holtz’ face lights up.
Erin’s eyes narrow. “Do you know how that could’ve happened?”
Holtz shakes her head. “Not a clue.” Her smirk says otherwise.
“Really? You have no clue why anyone would interpret the flirting and the touching and the smiling as signs that we’re together?”
“Is it against the law to smile?” Holtz adopts a stern and blank expression, but she only manages to hold it for two seconds before the smile is back.
“You’re not even going to try to deny it, are you.”
“What, the flirting? Why would I deny that?” Holtz’ grin widens, revealing the dimples that Erin definitely hasn’t been thinking a lot about lately.
Erin falters. She didn’t expect Holtz to outright confirm it. This derails her speech. “Why do you do it? Flirt with me? Are you trying to lead…people…on?”
“Depends on who you mean by ‘people.’ If you mean you, then no, I’m not trying to lead you on. If you mean the rest of the world, then yes, I may or may not have been laying it on a little thick ever since I found out that people thought we were dating.”
That’s a lot of information for Erin to process all at once. “And when was that? The Kevin incident?”
Holtz looks a little sheepish, which is new. “Uh. Not quite.”
“Before that?”
Holtz grimaces. “I Google myself a lot.”
“How long, Holtzmann?”
“Since like…a month after the almost-apocalypse.”
“Seriously?”
Holtz nods.
Erin tries to wrap her head around that. “So you’ve been purposely flirting with me so people will continue to think that we’re dating? Why?”
“No, I’ve been flirting with you because I like you, Gilbert.” Holtz rolls her eyes. “But you weren’t exactly noticing that, so I thought if I made it a bit more obvious…but it turns out that literally the entire world caught on before you did. Congratulations on that, by the way. It’s kind of impressive.”
Erin just stares.
“But,” Holtz continues, “judging by the way you’ve been freaking out every time someone thinks we’re a couple, it’s pretty obvious you aren’t too into the idea. Not to worry, I hear you loud and clear, and I’ll back off now. Okay? Just don’t make it weird. You’re good at making it weird.”
She gives a kind of sad smile and pulls away, like she thinks the conversation is over.
“That’s not true,” Erin says, loudly, the words stumbling over one another.
“What?”
“I am. Into the idea. More into the idea than I’d like to admit. Even though I just did admit it. Shoot.”
“What?” Holtz repeats.
“Every time someone mistakes us for a couple, I get all…happy? And warm? And I did some data analysis and looked for other variables, but there aren’t any. I just think that I want to date you. Which is really unexpected. And, um. I don’t really know what to do with that information.”
A brilliant smile cuts across Holtzmann’s face. “I do.”
Then she stands up and literally crawls over the work table, knocking several items to the ground in the process (Erin can only hope that none of them has the potential to blow up the lab, but history says otherwise) and joins Erin on the other side. Before Erin can say anything, Holtzmann is bending down and cupping Erin’s jaw to tilt her head up, and then their lips are crushing together. It only takes Erin half a second to reciprocate the kiss, and she leans into Holtz’ touch.
Either Holtz is a fantastic kisser or Erin wanted this more than she thought, because she’s pretty certain she could stay there forever and die happy.
It’s over too soon. Holtz pulls back, but she doesn’t go far. She looks like an excited puppy. “Hey Erin?”
“Yeah?” Erin’s a little out of breath.
“You wanna go on a date sometime?”
Erin laughs. “Sure, Holtz. Somewhere private, though, okay? I’m still a little freaked out by the fact that there are actual paparazzi photos of me on the internet.”
“We could wear disguises,” Holtz muses, “I have a fake moustache I’ve been meaning to test out.”
“You’re a dork.” Erin pulls her in for another kiss.
A few hours later, after a substantial amount of making out against potentially dangerous machinery, the two head downstairs. Abby and Patty don’t seem to have noticed that they were missing for hours. Kevin is nowhere to be found.
“Is it time for lunch yet?” Holtz says. She wraps her arms around Erin’s waist from behind and nestles her head into the crook of her neck. She’s done stuff like this many times before, but it feels so different now. Erin’s heart flutters. She feels like a teenager.
“Just about,” Abby says without looking up from her work.
Patty does look up, and takes them in. “Y’know, I know you guys aren’t a couple, but when you do shit like that, I understand why everyone thinks you are.”
That catches Abby’s attention, and she looks up too. “You would be pretty damn cute together, I’ll admit that.”
Erin can practically feel Holtz’ smirk. “Us? A couple? Reeaaaally? What a crazy idea.”