She Can Work It Just Fine [fic]

[isabrella]

She Can Work It Just Fine (1030 words) by isabrella
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Ghostbusters (2016)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Erin Gilbert/Jillian Holtzmann
Characters: Erin Gilbert, Jillian Holtzmann, Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Dancing, erin is Gay

Summary: 
Holtzmann has a part-time job and Erin wants to know what it is, feat. the usual hair-down, make-up on, Erin is gay scene.

Notes:
On SqWA / Tumblr.
 

 

Erin has a lot of questions about Holtzmann. She wants to know what goes on inside that beautiful brain, she wants to know why Holtz never goes home for the holidays, she wants to know why she wears those yellow glasses.

But most of all, she wants to know where Holtzmann goes at six-thirty pm every night on a Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday.

She never tries to hide that she's leaving, but she never explains either. She's almost always wearing a full face of make-up, something that she almost never does, but in her work clothes. The first couple of times Erin noticed her leaving with make-up on, she had just assumed that Holtz was going on a date (with some poor woman that she would later take home, fuck, and leave without a phone number – Erin's heard enough stories). But then she noticed it was a clockwork thing, and she started making a point of hanging around downstairs to see when it happened. Wednesday, Friday, Saturday.

One Friday, Patty and Abby had gone home early, and Erin was left alone, waiting for Holtz to go. She bounds down the stairs, work-clothes and make-up intact, and waves goodbye. Erin waves goodbye too, and then swallows heavily at the thought that's just popped into her head.

Before she can question it, Erin stands, abandons the journal and follows her. It's wrong. It's creepy as all heck and she should just ask Holtzmann, but she's over-tired and over-confident, so she follows her. Holtzmann weaves down a few blocks, and Erin is regretting her choice of footwear – pumps – but eventually, Holtz stops and ducks inside a seedy-looking bar with a flickering neon sign.

Erin holds her breath for a moment, wondering if it's going too far to go inside, then decides to wait. It's almost ten minutes before she follows. The woman at the door doesn't ID her, just waves her through, eyeing her up with a grin. Erin smiles shyly back.

Erin buys a cider and finds a seat at a table, not seeing Holtzmann anywhere. The room isn't full, but there's a few people – all feminine-looking – hanging around. One of them, dressed in a plaid dress that sets off her pale skin, with loafers, excuses herself from her friends and comes to sit beside her. Her hair could rival Hillary Clinton's in "uptight mom fashions", but she's very pretty.

"And what does your mama holler when she wants you to do the chores?" the woman drawls.

Erin swallows, feeling herself getting sweaty. "E-Erin." She wants to think of a witty comeback, but her gay synapses are firing into overdrive at the scent of the woman's perfume. God, she needs to get laid.

"I'm Mary." She holds out a hand and Erin automatically shakes, cringing at how sweaty her palms are.

"What is this place?" she blurts out without thinking, then immediately realises that she's outed herself as utterly unaware.

Mary laughs, smiling sympathetically at her. "Oh, lord. You are in for a ride. This is the gayest ladies bar in the whole of New York and tonight is Burlesque night. Someone ask you here without telling you?"

Erin's gay synapses fire in new directions and she puts it all together in one heartbeat. Holtz… the bar… the dancing… the make-up. "Something like that," she stutters. She has to go. She's on her feet before she says anything, until Mary catches her arm and pulls her back.

"Look! There they are! Just relax. It's fun."

Erin sits back down, face flaming, wishing she'd never even noticed Holtzmann's disappearances, wishing she'd never followed her inside and sat down, wishing she wasn't such .

And it's Holtzmann. It's Holtzmann in a skimpy, far too flattering outfit, and high heels.

She dances, and Erin has never been so turned on in her life. She's squirming in her seat, and out of the corner of her eye, she can see Mary laughing at her, but all she can focus on is Holtzmann sensually pushing herself against the chair.

"Her name is Helga," Mary tells her, still smirking.

"That's her stage name?" Erin manages a laugh at Holtzmann's sheer tenacity, and Mary tilts her head.

"You know her?"

Erin blinks, caught in the act. She shrugs, blushing.

"Oh," Mary seems to gather the lay of the land pretty quickly. "Was she the one who invited you?"

Erin shrugs again, burying her face in her hands.

"She doesn't know you know."

Erin nods from behind her hands. When she looks up again, the song has finished and the chair is gone, Holtz has been replaced by two other bodacious ladies, and Mary is staring at her inquisitively. "What are you going to do?"

"I… don't know." Erin thinks back to Holtzmann licking her lips as she bent over the chair and groans.

"How do you know her?"

"We work together."

"Oh, shit." Mary raises an eyebrow, obviously amused by her predicament. Erin shakes her head, anxiety bubbling up in her chest.

"Hey, Er." It's Holtzmann. She's dressed in sweats and a t-shirt and sits down beside Erin without missing a beat. "Hi. I'm Holtz," she addresses Mary.

Mary grins. "I'll leave you to it."

"Did you enjoy the show?" Holtz grins wolfishly, like she knows exactly what's going on in Erin's mind (and pants).

"It was… nice," Erin manages.

"High praise," Holtz deadpans. "You followed me," she adds, expressionless.

"I'm sorry," Erin blurts out. "I was just so curious. I just-"

"I'm not mad." Holtzmann cuts her off. "Erin, it's okay," she watches as Erin's eyes get shiny. "Really! I promise. I've been waiting for you to follow me."

Erin's brow crinkles. "How did you know?"

"You sit in the same spot on the first floor every night that I come here. But it's okay. Really, what did you think?"

Taking another sip of her cider, Erin looks up. "It was hot. And you have long hair."

"Yeah." Holtz self-consciously touches her curls. Then she shakes it off and smiles. "Shall we go to the bathroom?" she winks.

And that's how Erin ends up with Holtz on her knees in a bathroom stall, clutching the door as she comes.