Radioactive

Erin was way behind on her newest book. The deadline was midnight tomorrow and she was barely past chapter three. It wouldn't even matter except she'd already spent the advance on a seriously reckless purchase that she'd bought with intentions that she knew she'd never fulfill. So here she was, at 01:30 am, typing on her laptop. If she went home she knew she wouldn't finish it, so she stayed in the firehouse.

Luckily for her, Holtzmann apparently had serious business that needed her immediate attention. Patty and Abby hard left immediately when she'd confessed exactly how nuclear it was.

Holtzmann was a master of summoning energy. Erin had noticed it in her much earlier in the year, but she seemed to inspire it in others too. The blonde apparently had an infinite stash of energy drinks and homemade concoctions. Erin wasn't sure what the woman put into them, but they were simultaneously delicious and disgusting at the same time. Inexplicable. There was a metaphor in there, somewhere.

Erin would never admit it, but she didn't think the energy that she had at this late hour was exactly anything to do with the drinks Holtzmann would periodically either toss her or gently drop on her desk (depending on the type of drink). She thought that perhaps it had more to do with the fact that it was Holtz.

It was 3am by the time Erin reached three-quarters of the agreed word count. She felt it was high time for a break, so she stood up and stretched. She looked over at Holtzmann, who had apparently not even noticed that Erin had moved.

She didn't look up as Erin sidled over to her slowly, though her pulse certainly skyrocketed. She was sure Erin could hear it.

"Holtz, I think it's about time we took a break. Wanna come up to the roof? I have a space-blanket." She offered, staring at the engineer.

Holtzmann looked up, feigning surprise, still twisting the screwdriver.

"Did you finish the book then?" Holtzmann asked, trying to control her breathing. She could smell hand soap and her "energy drinks". (which were entirely placebos. She didn't think Gilbert could even survive a real HoltzBooster.) It was intoxicating.

Erin looked confused, didn't answer for a second.

"Uh, no, I'm close though. Holtz?" She said, distracted. Holtzmann followed her eye-line, directly to the screwdriver.

Oh. Oh no.

Holtzmann had been absentmindedly and steadily twisting several holes into the woodwork of her desk since 8 pm. She'd amassed quite a collection, not that she'd noticed. She'd been watching Gilbert all night.

"Uh, yeah? Gilbert?" The blonde asked, deciding too quickly to bluff.

"When did you finish your machine?" The physicist asked.

"What machine?" Holtzmann blurted. Oh, how she sometimes wished for the ability to think ahead. A brain filter would definitely not go amiss.

Erin was staring at her. Holtzmann stared back. Stalemate.

"A break sounds good, Erin."