*what up, I have no idea what this is, it's basically just a giant narrative string of thoughts that I had. I wrote it in a mandatory Sunday study hall instead of doing my physics homework. Not a whole lot of plot. My bad.
I only know enough science to be pretentious, so call me out on all the wrong stuff.
I know my idea of the lab is not really canon, but shhh.
The generator in Boston is real and awesome, it looks like a giant pair of balls or buttcheecks and I have a headcanon that Holtz made friends with the night janitor and would study there in the middle of the night.
2nd fic, still no idea what I'm doing. Help me obi wan whoever you are, you're my only hoe. make me better.
Love ya, enjoy.*
The firehouse hadn't been home to firefighters in nearly 30 years. After much deliberation, the second floor did become lab space, and Holtzmann did pretty much own it, but she deigned to share with the others if they needed it. The first floor was the floor that the public saw. It had Patty and Abby's library, and all of their desks and a long table layered with maps and plans and ideas for equipment. Due to its dangerous nature, Holtzmann did most of her work upstairs in her lab. She reigned supreme here, but due to the collaborative nature of their work, it was not uncommon to find Erin or Abby up there as well. The giant T-shaped bench in the middle of the room could more than accommodate them, and as long as they asked before they moved her stuff out of the way (for their own safety), she liked the company. Erin worked downstairs often, but her more groundbreaking research she liked to do someplace where the public couldn't just come in and see it. After awhile, she managed to carve out her own little corner of the lab. She had 2 huge whiteboards in her corner that were constantly covered in equations. She would stand at them for hours, squeaking away until she got a headache from the glare and the smell. Beside her, Holtz would tap away on one of her giant (and suspiciously numerous) reclaimed classroom chalkboards as she and Abby discussed potential modifications to their equipment. She picked up different colors and wiped chalk dust through her hair and on her clothes as she talked, and it just made her look crazier. Erin smiled and turned back to her sterile white board, with her black and blue markers and neat handwriting. Erin liked working up here. There was always more than enough white noise in the background and she liked hanging out with Holtz. Holtz seemed to understand when not to interrupt. And when to interrupt. Not to mention she was always fun to watch. Most of Erin's real work was done on paper but Holtzmann? She was constantly banging something or zapping something or setting something on fire or Erin's personal favorite, welding. Even when she wasn't actually working, she was dancing or designing or laying on the floor eating Pringles. There was always something going on and Holtz was always asking questions, from whether aliens believe in us to what Erin's middle name was to what Erin was working on to shameless flirtation just to make Erin's face get all red. Simply because she could. When was the last time Erin did something just because she could? Holtz made Erin feel more alive just by being in the room. Her presence was like touching a Van de Graff generator. It didn't really change anything, but it made your hair stand up on end and your fingers a little tingly just from the sheer energy it possessed. Appropriately, Holtz loved Van de Graff generators for the exact reason - they were kind of useless nowadays, "But still so awesome! They make lightning, Erin!". Holtz bragged one night that while she was at MIT she had snuck into the Boston Museum of Science after hours and touched the largest one in the world. She hypothesized that that was why her hair looked the way it did.
The more time Erin spent around Holtzmann's work, the more impressed she became by it. The more time Holtz spent around Erin's research, the more impressed she became, as well. Holtz loved that Erin hadn't stopped being an asset to modern physics, and what an asset she was. Occasionally when Erin was deep in the zone, having tuned out absolutely everything that wasn't the cutting edge of particle physics, Holtzmann would literally pop a bag of popcorn and just watch her work. Even with a Ph.D, Holtz didn't follow everything completely, but she knew enough to see that it was some pretty groundbreaking stuff.
One rainy Sunday afternoon, Holtz had finished everything she set out to accomplish that day and was just sitting around drawing up some ideas that were still in the hypothesis phase with Abby, and also a seal wearing a propeller hat for good had a tube of Pringles out and was spinning around in her chair waiting for ideas to come to her. Abby and Patty had gone out shopping, and were not expected back for quite awhile, the three of them having basically written off the afternoon for anything productive. Erin, however, was just getting started. From what Holtz had been able to gather from the professor, she was trying to prove the theoretical existence of a new type of quark. When Holtz looked up from her drawing, Erin had already made it through half of one of her giant whiteboards, covering it in strange symbols, numbers, arrows, and neat cursive. She was barefoot and had commandeered one of the ratty hoodies Holtz purposely left by her corner of the lab because Erin was always freezing and didn't seem to have many comfy things and definitely not because of the happy feeling she got seeing Gilbert in her clothes, no siree.
Today it's a Navy blue one with worn cuffs and tied strings and a V cut unceremoniously into the neck so Holtz could put it on without taking off her goggles, and it should not be working as well on Erin as it is. When Erin reaches up to fix something, erasing with the sleeve as she stands on bare tiptoes, Holtz is gone. Today is a popcorn day. Anything and everything else could wait. Holtz pulled up a chair with her snack and threw her feet up and watched the speed of Erin's hands and the determination in her eyes, and man was she in love.
Wait, What?
She chewed her popcorn slowly, eyes going wide. No, that couldn't be right. Holtzmann didn't fall in love. At least, she never had before, and had certainly not been planning to start. But then again, she had never felt like this before, either. Erin was attractive in that proffessor-y, buttoned-up way that made Holtz want to… well… unbutton her, but Holtz had never felt like she could live off the image of erin at her whiteboard, doing what she loved with no tinge of doubt or self-consciousness forever. She had never felt like she would swear off Pringles for good just to make someone happy. She loved to flirt with Erin, and everyone knew it, but for once in her life she realized that she also wanted to hold her hand and dance with her, and dammit, she was in love with Dr. Erin Gilbert, Ph.D.
She had no idea what to do with that information, but contrary to popular belief, she had a vast capability for patience. So for now, she and her knowledge just smiled and watched as Erin filled the first whiteboard and moved seamlessly to the next. A few lines in she gave a little "ouch" that brought Holtzmann's attention from trying to figure out what exactly was going on in Erin's equations. Holtz watched curiously as Erin shook out her right hand, which had evidently cramped, and picked up the marker with her other hand and holy shit she's ambidextrous.
Undeterred by the loss of her right hand, Erin continued on a little more slowly, careful now not to erase what she was writing by dragging her hand through it. Transfixed, Holtz realized too late that Erin was about to run out of board space. As she did, she let out a panicked little 'ah!', looking around desperately for a place to continue writing. Holtz sprang up and was there in an instant, erasing her adjacent chalkboard.
"Here, hot shot, keep going!" She said, grabbing the marker out of Erin's hand and replacing it with a stick of yellow chalk. Erin wrote until her her brain was exhausted and her hands were yellow and dry and Holtzmann's sweatshirt was covered in dust. When she reached the end, she took a deep breath and turned around, satisfied, to find Holtz watching her, chin in one hand, popcorn in the other. Holtz waggled her fingers at her from her lazy position in her chair.
"Welcome back to the land of the living!" She greeted, and Erin laughed. Holtz hopped up and strolled over, holding out the bag.
"Popcorn?" She asks, and Erin's eyes are tired but Holtzmann's are blue and looking right at her the way she does sometimes that makes Erin want to look away but also find away to keep staring forever. The smell of the popcorn saves her from having to choose as she realizes she hasn't eaten anything all day, gratefully accepting the bag. It's spicy and it makes her cough.
"Like it?" Holtz asks.
"No, not at all!" Erin coughs back, but Holtzmann's grin just gets wider.
"Aw, well Patty and Abby have pizza and a movie downstairs, if you'd rather."
"Yes please" Erin replied, handing Holtz the bag back like it may explode and fanning her face.
Holtz held out an elbow and Erin took it as they walked back through the lab. Just before they get to the stairs, Holtz turns and plants a kiss on Erin's cheek. Erin turns to her, surprised.
"What- ahem" she stutters, "What was that for? Exactly?"
Holtz is still looking at her in a way that makes her hot around the collar as she just shrugs.
"Do I need a reason?" She asks, and now it's her turn to look away. Even though it's phrased as a joke, Erin thinks that maybe this is something different than the rest of the flirting. Something better. Something that warms more than just her face.
"No, I don't suppose you do." She replies, and the grin that splits Holtzmann's face has enough wattage to power the city.
"Good." she says, "That's...good. Yeah, really good."
She kisses Erin's cheek again, and they go downstairs.
She kisses her all through the movie and she kisses her goodnight and she kisses her every day from that day forward.