Jillian Holtzmann hated feelings. Hated. Feelings. A lot. How could she like them when they were so hard? In general, she kept any she had to herself, and when she did communicate them to anyone, she always felt stilted and awkward. Once, when she and her colleagues had saved New York from sure devastation, she had raised her glass in a toast to her coworkers only to skillfully choke on her own words. If she couldn't explain what she felt to her friends, how could she ever explain what was running through her brain now?
See, Holtzmann was pretty certain by this point that she was falling in love with Erin Gilbert. And not in the sweet, simple, easy way. No, she was falling hard. That was the only way to put it.
See, Holtzmann had never truly connected with anyone, probably because of her closed-off demeanor. The only problem was that she attracted people to her like moths to a flame. She was enthusiastic, confident, and (perhaps most importantly) utterly herself. She never cared what other people thought, which was both a blessing and a curse. People loved her. They threw themselves at her feet. Holtzmann liked that – she loved being the center of attention – but she couldn't help but worry that if she actually was honest with her admirers about her feelings, they would realize her charismatic demeanor was all a fluke. Yes, Holtzmann was a glorious, tough, spirited, weirdo, but inside she was still a mushy sweetheart, and she knew it.
So, despite her attractive personality, Jillian Holtzmann had never let anyone in. Of course, she'd been in relationships before. But they'd all ended when the other person either realized how secretive Holtzmann was about her thoughts, or when Holtzmann decided she was done being in charge the whole time. She was tired of the whole dating scene, in fact. She just didn't want to do it anymore. But Erin Gilbert… she often made Holtzmann reconsider entering the dating scene.
"She was absolutely perfect. She was so adorably uptight and so willing to conform to society's expectations that Jillian wondered if she saw perhaps the exact opposite of herself – someone who was not, on the outside, a glorious weirdo, but who was in fact the most charismatic weirdo there ever was on the inside. Holtzmann thought that perhaps her closed-off attitude was hiding something – her sexuality, perhaps? Erin's mannerisms were indicative of a straight girl, but if Jillian's theory was correct, Erin was definitely not straight – at least not in the deepest parts of herself. Jillian often wondered if Erin was one to take charge in relationships.
Holtzmann had been head-over-heels for Erin ever since the then-professor showed up. She was in one of those tweed jackets and she looked so stuck up and so adorably frustrated that Jillian just couldn't help herself.
Come here often?" she had said, winking at Erin with a flirtatious grin. Erin had blushed, and that had been it.
Jillian spent the next few months saving New York, but she managed to pay enough attention to Erin's cautious ways that she had found out quite a few choice bits of information:
1. Erin Gilbert loved marigolds.
2. Gilbert never rejected Holtzmann's flirting.
3. Gilbert liked to try on Holtzmann's glasses, which made her look like an owl.
4. Erin had not been on a single date since Jillian had met her a year before.
5. Erin had also not flirted with or spoken romantically about Kevin in several months (not since he had almost electrocuted himself by putting the last working phone into the fish tank).
6. Holtzmann had never seen Erin wearing clothing that wasn't absolutely claustrophobic-looking and tight (except the requisite Ghostbusters' uniform, a tan and orange jumpsuit that none of them could pull off except Jillian).
7. Erin was utterly perfect.
Holtzmann didn't want to ask Erin out. She wanted to be taken care of, for once. She wanted someone to chase her, for a change. To be wise enough to realize that sometimes Miss Spunky Scientist Jillian didn't want to be the boss. To climb on top of her and just…
She wondered if there was a way she could get Gilbert to open up. Not be so… frustratingly buttoned-up.
The answer came to her on the night of the one-year anniversary of the Ghostbuster ladies (and Kevin, she supposed) saving New York City from the threat of paranormal activity. They all went out to the little Chinese place they used to work above, and as Abby specified to the waiter exactly what the ratio of soup to wontons should be, Holtzmann found herself staring at Gilbert. The curve of her cheekbones was so pretty. She wanted to nuzzle into the crook of her neck and hold her tightly. She wanted to dance with her. Erin looked pointedly at her menu, even though Jillian knew that she was just going to order the same thing she always did (lo mein with chicken cut into perfect squares).
And that's when Jillian decided that she would need to take the lead one more time if she was going to make Erin come out of her shell.
Let's go on a boat ride tonight!"
"No one was surprised. Jillian was always coming up with outrageous plans like that.
"To where?" Abby looked questioningly at Holtzmann.
"Let's just go! It'll be an adventure. Anyway, I need to brush up on my sailing skills." She winked at Erin, whose cheeks immediately glowed a soft shade of pink.
""Umm… sailing? That's a bit dangerous, don't you think?" Erin, obviously.
"Well, girl, I'm too tired from working all day. I just wanna go home. Maybe tomorrow," Patty said, yawning and stretching in her seat. "I mean, happy Ghostbust-iversary, but I need my beauty sleep."
"I'm not falling for your crazy-ass plans. Sorry, girly," Abby said. "I'm not sure you won't kill us all."
"What are we talking about, again?" Kevin asked, his eyes coming back into focus from – well, wherever he was.
""Nothing," Holtzmann sighed. She then realized that Erin had not yet said no. This might actually work…
"I'll go," Erin said, twenty minutes into the meal. "Wait… Do you even have a boat?"
"Here she is. My little beauty," Holtzmann said, sweeping her forearm gracefully across the hull. "Isn't she perfect?"
"Yeah, it's nice," Erin admitted, less than enthusiastically.
"Scared, little ghost-girl?"
""N-no." Erin couldn't disguise the slight quaver in her voice, though, and Jillian suddenly felt a bit protective. She didn't want to be in charge, no, but she wanted Gilbert to be comfortable. She grabbed Erin's hand and squeezed it.
"Come on, Gilbert. You'll love it."
Once they had (not quite) safely dodged the rocks by the harbor and gone out into the mildly chilly bay, Holtzmann once again took Erin's hand and led her to the side of the boat.
"Isn't it just swell?" Holtmann smiled over the waves breaking gently over the hull.
"How is it that only you can make that word sound cool?"
"I guess I'm just super awesome." Holtzmann winked.
"What is it called?"
""The boat? Oh, I just got her a couple months ago. I dunno what her name is yet. Just have to figure it out, I guess."
A pregnant silence fell between them. Erin stared in awe over the side, her hair blowing softly in the gentle wind that caught in the sail of the boat. Holtzmann gazed at Erin, wondering how her perfectly ironed button-up wasn't wrinkled yet, and marveling at how her eyes gleamed in the light from the sliver of moonlight not covered by clouds. Erin didn't notice Holtzmann's piercing stare, instead smiling sweetly at the white caps over the dark water. Erin rested her head lightly on her palm, elbow propped up on the railing of the sailboat. She looked indescribably happy, which made Jillian happy. Her plan had been carried out perfectly. Nobody else but the two of them. The perfect opportunity for Gilbert to say something. Why didn't she say something?
Holtzmann went back to her post by the rudder, guiding the boat through the calm waters. She noticed something eerie about the sky. There were a lot of clouds. Why were there so many clouds?
She didn't want to pull back into the port and go back to reality. She wanted Erin to say something. Plus, little Gilbert looked so content by the ocean. She kept making little circles in the water, not wanting to admit to herself that there was a storm coming. Until it did.
"It started innocently enough, a few drops of rain pattering softly against the canvas sail. But it picked up quickly, battering against Jillian's face and making it next to impossible to see the coast. Erin glanced worriedly at Holtzmann as the engineer crooked her finger and motioned her over.
"Okay, you just hold the rudder still, cutie-pie. I'm gonna take the sail down."
"What?" Erin couldn't hear Jillian over the heightening wind. Holtzmann guided Gilbert's hands to the wheel, motioning her to stay put. Gilbert nodded timidly. Holtzmann fumbled with the ropes, but she didn't have quite enough force. Something was… ouch! The rope snapped in her hands, burning her palms and leaving welts. She didn't have time to register that fact, though, because suddenly the sail was coming undone and the heavy fabric hit her full-force and she was over the side and coughing up frigid water.
"Gilbert!" She tried her utmost to be heard over the (now pounding) rain, but she simply couldn't. Her voice had dwindled to a croaking mess, and her overalls were heavy with the weight of the ocean water. The salt burned her nose and throat and eyes. She was too cold. Holtzmann paddled as fast as she could, trying to keep up with the quickly receding boat, but the waves were high and the wind buffeted her small body. Why had she done this without checking the weather forecast first? Why had she even bothered? She was going to die, and it would be because of her stupid unwillingness to tell Erin Gilbert she loved her.
She blacked out about two seconds before Erin realized she was missing.
***
When she awoke, she was in a hospital room. It wasn't busy, though. In fact, she supposed she must have been there for quite a while, because when she lifted her head she saw that Erin Gilbert was asleep, curled at the foot of the bed. Her shirt (the same one she had been wearing when – ages ago, it seemed – Jillian had taken her on the ill-fated sailing adventure) was rumpled and stained, and her hair was tangled and looked like it was coated in dried salt.
She gave a small groan. Her head was pounding, and her chest felt hollow and stiff. She wiggled her fingers and toes. Good. They were all there.
After what seemed like hours, but was only probably about two minutes, she felt the sheets rustle and the tiny body at the end of the bed uncurl. When Erin's face swam into view, her eyes brightened.
"You're awake!"
"How… how long?" Holtzmann managed to squeak. Erin glanced at her watch.
"A mere 22 hours. You're lucky to be alive."
"Am I… am I alive because… because of… you?"
"Erin's cheeks crinkled, and her face faded out of view as Holtzmann closed her eyes again and drifted off to a calm sleep, resting her aching body.
***
Several days later, when Holtzmann could sit up by herself and was clearly aching to return home, she asked Erin (who hadn't left the hospital, except to periodically change clothes, at Jillian's insistence), what exactly had happened.
"Well," Erin began, her eyes tracing paths on the ceiling as she lounged in the bedside chair, "I put on a life jacket. At least you didn't get rid of them. And then I threw the floaty ring-thingy out to you –"
"Floaty ring-thingy?"
"Shut up."
"Fine."
"Ok, so then I jumped in and I held onto it and went out to where you were. By that point you were out cold, so I just put the ring over your head and then made my way back to the boat and pulled you in the with me. And then I just … pulled us back over the side. It was hard with the waves and the rain and all that. Guess I've got a lot of strength in these little arms."
Holtzmann took a moment to admire Erin's arms. They did look strong under there. Those were chivalrous arms. She wished Erin would wrap them around her.
"And then," Erin continued, shaking Holtz out of her reverie, "I just covered you with the sail to keep you warm and I made some calls and the coast guard came out to rescue us. By then the storm was dying down a bit, but I curled up under the sail with you because it was wet and windy and I was freezing. It's a miracle they found us."
Holtzmann thought about Erin curled up next to her under the sail, taking care of her. Well, now was as good a time as any to tell her how she felt. She was going to have to soon enough, anyway.
"Gilbert?"
"Yes, Holtzy?"
"Gilbert, I love you."
"What?"
"I'm in love with you."
Holtzmann's heart seized. She flew into a panic, which, if she hadn't been hooked up to a million machines, would have made her fly out the room and down the hall. Fortunately, the tiny eternity contained in the silence between her admission and Gilbert's response was quite short-lived.
"I – I love you, too."
"Huh?" Holtzmann lifted her chin to look at Erin and suddenly felt the press of soft lips against her own. It was quick and gentle, but it left tiny fireworks exploding in Holtzmann's stomach and she wished for more.
"Can I?" Erin asked, tilting her head gently at the space next to Jillian's body.
Holtzmann nodded nervously. Erin lay down gently at her side and wrapped her arms lightly around Holtzmann's body. Holtzmann sighed contentedly, finally nuzzling her head into Erin's neck and taking in her sweet perfume. Holztmann opened her eyes. Was Gilbert wearing jeans? And a normal sweater without a turtleneck? She smiled into Erin's shoulder, overjoyed that she had finally made high-strung Erin Gilbert open up.
The next day, Holtzmann was released from the hospital. Erin drove her home to apartment, giving Jillian ample time to study every movement Gilbert made. She noticed the way her hands (they were strong, she realized) gripped the steering wheel even as she waited at red lights. She noticed the way she leaned forward in her seat slightly, as if trying to take everything in at once. But mostly, she noticed how, every so often, the red hair would shift over Erin's shoulder and she would glance with a tiny smile towards Jillian's eyes, which were overflowing with admiration.
During one of these cursory glances, Erin noticed something.
"Is that a tear in my Jillian's eye?"
Holtzmann started. Erin had never called her Jillian before. She wiped her eye with back of her hand. She was embarrassed. She had spent her whole life wishing for someone who'd be okay with her real, emotionally vulnerable self, but now, when it was actually happening, it was frightening.
"N-no."
"Don't lie to me, sweetheart."
"I'm just… so emthankful. Thank you for saving me, Erin Gilbert. Just… thank you." Her eyes looked soulfully at Erin.
"You're welcome," Erin said, grinning widely as she pulled into Jillian's driveway. "Here we are. Best get you into bed."
"I'm feeling fine. Really," Jillian said. "If I go to bed… I want… I want…"
"Me to come with you?"
"Yes, please."
Jillian was glad to see that Erin had brought an overnight bag. Once they had both changed into sweatshirts and pajama pants, they curled up together, smiling sleepily at each other.
"Can I kiss you?" Erin's voice was sweet and quiet. Jillian opened her eyes.
"Yes."
The kiss began much as the last one had, gentle and innocent and sweet. Holtzmann could feel Erin's strong hands, one wrapped around her, the other in her hair. She smelled sweet, like the marigolds she loved so much. Jillian pulled Erin on top of her, and Erin obliged without breaking the kiss.
"Are you sure?" Gilbert asked during a brief pause to breathe. "Because we can wait. I mean, you only just got home. Are you feeling well enough to –"
"Please, Gilbert."
"Okay. But one thing…"
"Anything."
"Call me Erin."
When Erin awoke the next morning, she found herself gazing at Holtzmann's peaceful countenance. Her cheeks glowed in a way she'd never seen before, not even before the boating accident. Holtzmann's face was half-buried in her shoulder, her eyelashes grazing Erin's bare skin and her arm draped over her torso. Almost no time passed before Holtzmann's eyes opened and gazed plaintively into Erin's. She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Hey babe," Erin said sleepily.
Holtzmann's eyes widened for a moment. She had realized something.
"I know," Jillian said, momentarily lifting her head away from Erin's warmth.
"You know what?"
"What I'm gonna name my boat."
"Oh yeah, what's that?"
"Erin."
Jillian cuddled back into Erin's shoulder as her eyes grew heavy again. Erin pulled her in close and wrapped her arms around her. She didn't want to disturb the perfect morning by telling Jillian her boat hadn't survived the storm. Instead, she lovingly stroked Jillian's hair, feeling her hot breath on the inside of her arm. Jillian curled further into her, knowing as she fell back to sleep that Erin Gilbert would take care of her.
