Lab Partners || Holtzbert

Home sweet home

Holtzmann had always been fond of driving, she loved the feel of being able to control machinery. Especially when it was ecto 1. But she has willingly signed over the designated driver to Gilbert. Which in hind sight was probably the safest option for - well just about anyone. The journey itself was brief. The seats of the car were cold, and the music on the radio was crappy gone ten o'clock. They arrived at Holtzmann's apartment block and after that it was just a case of walking up two flights of stairs and across the hall until they reached apartment 33B. The door was a deep shade of red to contrast the beige paint that coated the walls. Holtz rummaged through the baggy pockets of her red gown until her fingers fumbled accords the keys. Holtz was kind of nervous. Nervous of what Erin would think. What if she found it repulsive? No, don't think like that. Holtz new that Erin appreciated her, and all of her quirks this would just be another. Her hand was slightly shaky as she pressed the key into the lock and twisted it until she heard a click. Her left hand rested on the door handle and she turned it until the door opened slightly. She held the door open so that Erin could enter first.
Erin was stunned. The apartment was spectacular and so Holtz. The carpets were mismatched, there was metal industrial shelves with wires and pipes scattered upon them, the sofa looked like a comfortable embrace, there was a shoe rack with various pairs from bowling shoes to military-style boots, beside that a coat rack that held multiple jackets and mismatching scarves/ties and a purple wig (that was the same one from the concert), in the middle of the room there was a a glass table with a metal stand and a plant upon it for a token gesture.
"Sorry it's a bit of a mess."
"No - no, not at all I think it is perfect."
The smell of coffee, sandwiches and the mild scent of burnt aluminium welcomed Erin. This was Holtz, which Erin adored. She longed to go and touch every object, she would have done if any of them were safe. But it's Holtz - so nothing in her apartment was safe.
"Coffee?"
"Huh?"
"Erin would you like some coffee?"
"Yes of course. Please." Erin followed Holtz into the kitchen which had shelves where cookery books should be, instead they were books on spectral entities and metaphysical forms. Holtz hovered over a coffee machine and placed on a mug, pushed a button which triggered a ref light and a steady stream of coffee ran out. "Is that a safety light?" Erin asked. Holtz turned away and ignored the question. "Holtz..."
"Pfft - no! Safety lights are for dudes."
"Okay. But it looks like a safety light to me."
"Can I offer you some salty parabolas?"
"What? Oh you mean pringles. No thank you... doesn't go well with coffee."
"You'd be surprised..." Holtz said.
"You have tried it?"
"I have tried many things Erin."
"What do you- actually, I don't want to know." By this point the coffee cup had filled and Holtz passed it to Erin. The cup touched Erin's fingers as she tried to grasp it but it slipped. The coffee fell and spilled over Erin's white shirt.
"Oh flapjack!" Erin said. "I am so sorry,"
"Don't worry about it... that is my fault." Holtz grasped a tea towel. "Here, clean yourself up. You can wear one of my shirts for now. If you go into the other room, down the hall into my bedroom under my bed there is a box with tees in them. One of them ought to fit."
"Are you sure Holtz?"
"Yes of course in the meantime I will fix you up a sandwich, you must be hungry."
"That would be great thanks."
"Not a problem, now go and sort yourself out." So Erin walked off, down the hallway where she met two doors. The first she tried was a bathroom, nothing too special in there. The second must be Holtzmann's bedroom. Erin would be lying if she claimed she had never imagined it, what the room would be like. Her hand hesitated at the handle. Just open the door. She told herself. Open the bloody door. In the heat of the moment she did, she practically fell into the room. Once the stumble was over she got to her feet and looked around. It wasn't what she expected at all. The room was tones of greys and coppers, it seemed industrial but minimalistic. The room was decorated with metal ornaments and some framed awards. In the centre of the room there was a double bed wearing crisp sheets of white. She turned to close the door behind her and noticed the wall, decorated with a larger map of the world in shades of browns with dark black lines running across it. Ley lines. Erin thought. She walked closer to the wall and ran her hand across the smooth surface before seeing the pins. Dotted over the map there was pins in different locations all joined with string. Beneath the pin would be numbers, dates, it was the day/ month/ year. She is keeping track of all the places we have busted. Looking at the map and recognising the concert arena, the mansion, the hotel and time square. She sure is committed. Nothing new there then. Perhaps should have found it creepy, the map. But she didn't as she spotted the school that Holtz and Abi worked at with the date and a note.
"Ghost Girl" scrawled in Holtzmann's hand writing. She added the day we met? Erin was stunned. But she did have a purpose, she needed to change shirts. She went over the the bed that wasn't quite made and knelt down. She hunched over to look underneath the bed and there were tree boxes. She grabbed the middle one, which seemed the logical assumption, and slid it out. Removing the lid revealed a collection of trousers. She then moved the box on the left, slid it out and opened it. Bingo. She found the shirts she picked out a blue shirt with red writing, "one of the boys" not very accurate mind but Erin thought it smelt like Holtzmann so she didn't mind. After slipping the tee over her head she began to wonder. What could be in the third box? Shoes? Jewellery? Photographs? Erin knew it wasn't her place but curiosity got the best of her. She grabbed the box, slid it out and opened it.

Toys.
Not toys for kids either.
There was a collection of adult toys and props. Nothing crazy. Nothing intimidating.
There was masks, a vibrator and a strap on.

A strap on?
Wait what? She had a strap on? Fuck!
Holtz in a strap on. Fuck. Holtz in a strap on fucking. Holtz in a strap on fucking me?
Me in a strap on fucking Holtz?
She was aroused to say the least. Her imagination was running wild. She wanted to drag Holtz in here right now and use this stuff. But she couldn't otherwise Holtz would know that she had been snooping. But all she could think of was fucking Holtz with a strap on. She couldn't control herself. She was too tuned on. She was too creative. She needed to leave. She couldn't fuck Holtz - not now - not with this. She would know otherwise.
"Erin? Are you okay back there?" Erin heard her faintly but couldn't formulate a response. "Erin? Do you want you sandwhich? Do you wanna come and get your sandwich?" Holtz began to sing in a rhythm. "Erin come and get your sandwhich, come and get your sandwhich please."
Erin could hear Holtzmann's footsteps approach the door and Erin stuffed the box beneath the bed carelessly. She stumbled to the door and opened it with her shirt tucked under her arm.
"I just remembered", Erin spoke with a stutter distracted by her fantasies, "I have to go back to busts head quarters, I need to finish some work. But thank you for the coffee and erm the shirt but I have to go."
"Are you okay? You seem on edge?"
"I am fine - erm - never been - erm - better."
"Okay well drive safe and I will see you later." Erin couldn't make eye contact with Holtz. She knew if she did she would just surrender. She couldn't look at Holtz without being aroused, more so now then ever. She rushed out the door and headed to busts.

Holtz had no idea why she was acting like this. Why her movement were shaky and rushed and why her responses were sharp yet stuttery.

*

It had been four days, since Erin and Holtzmann hooked up, since Erin even made contact with Holtzmann. Granted she looked at her on the second floor but only for a brief amount of time before restraining herself. All she could see was Holtz with a strap on. She liked it, perhaps too much. Whenever she would look at Holtz she was already staring back with a smile on her face. When this happened Erin switched her gaze to avoid seduction. Not that she stopped thinking about it.

Holtz. Strap on. Holtz. Strap on.

It was torture. Holtz was fed up of the neglect. She wanted to talk to Erin, to touch Erin and for Erin to touch her back. This was it. Holtz wanted Erin, she needed Erin.

Erin had come up to the second floor of the firehouse to pick up something. Holtzmann walked over.
"Hey." Erin turned away trying to avoid her sweet tone. "Erin I need to talk to you."
"What is it Holtz?"
"Why have you been acting weird around me recently."
"I haven't."
"Why are you avoiding me then? Why are you not looking at me?"
Erin said nothing
"Is it something I have done?" Holtz asked
"No - yes - no - I don't know."
"Erin talk to me please, what is it?"
Erin paused as took a deep breath.
"When I was in your room. I was looking for the box with the shirts..." Holtzmann sighed, but listened anyway. "I picked out the wrong box." Erin lied. "I opened the wrong box"
"What was in the other box?" Holtz knew the answer but wanted confirmation.
"I think you know what was in the-"
"Say it", Holtz interrupted, "tell me what was in the box..."
"A strap on." Holtzmann sighed.
"And why can't you look at me? Did it freak you out? Make you uncomfortable?"
"No. It made me aroused and now every time I see you I just see. Well that."
"You fantasise about me with a strap on?" Erin blushed.
"That isn't entirely true...."
"Oh my god. Do you fantasise about fucking me with a strap on?" Erin nodded, turning completely red. Holtz looked at her endearingly. She touched Erin's chin with the tips of her fingers and lent into her ear.
"Do you want to fuck me with a strap on, ghost girl?"

Erin nodded. Holtz had one response, that made Erin complete and that drove her insane with lust, thirst, and shear craving. The words that provided her with motivation and imagination. The words that opened so many possibilities that turned her on. The words that can make Erin moan just by hearing them. The words that make Erin willingly surrender every inch of we body to Holtzmann's sweet seduction.

"Les go."