Author: Kat Lee
Character/Pairing: Holtzmann/Charlie, Ghostbusters Ensemble
Warning(s): Cannon Character Death
Word Count: 1,560
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
Author's Note: Special thanks to afterandalasia for first inspiring me for this pairing with her drabble tag challenge prompt. I couldn't cut it to 100 words, but I also couldn't leave the idea of these two kick ass women meeting!
She lays in the unfamiliar bed, her eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. She's replaying the day's events through her head for the third time in a row when a soft knock sounds on her door. Holtzmann glances at the clock just as the hands come together at twelve. "Who is it?"
"Room service," a chippy voice responds.
"At this hour?" Holtzmann groans. It's got to be a prank. She rolls to her feet, glances at her proton pack, dismisses it, and grabs a small bottle she keeps handy when traveling that will work on human or ghost instead. She has the spray can at the ready behind the door when she opens it a crack.
A petite redhead stands just outside. "You don't look like a maid."
The young woman grins. "That's because I'm not. I saw you earlier. Your friend said you were lonely."
Holtzmann frowns. "Who?"
"The tall one."
"Patty . . . Well, I may be lonely, but I can solve my own problems, thank you -- "
She starts to shut the door, but the redhead somehow blocks it. Holtzmann starts to look down to see if she's got her foot in the crack or something, but the redhead grabs her gaze and hold it. Holtzmann's heart thumps loudly in her chest; she's never seen such a beautiful smile.
"I'm sure you can solve your own problems," the redhead's saying while grinning. "You look like a bright, capable, confident woman. I beat you're the kind that kicks butt now and takes names later, if at all."
Holtzmann can't help grinning and acknowledging that line with a nod. "If at all," she agrees.
"But my main thing is this: Why should we have to take care of our own problems when making love together would be much more fun? One night," she offers point blank, "no strings."
"What if we don't hit it off?"
The girl shrugs. "Like I said," she repeats with a grin, "no strings."
Suddenly, she's inside the motel room with Holtzmann. Jillian doesn't remember backing up or opening the door wider to let the girl in; yet, there she is, standing right in front of her. Her fingers caress her jaw as she lifts her face. "You are a pretty one, aren't you?"
Holtzmann's heart is now pounding out a wild rhythm. The hairs on her arms are standing on end. She knows that's a warning even as she contemplates how in heck the girl got into her motel room. "What's your name?" she tries for something simple, something reasonable.
The girl touches the tip of her tongue to her top lip which Holtzmann suddenly realizes is very, very kissable. "Names are what we make them," she says and shrugs.
Before Jillian can protest any further, her lips are on hers, covering her mouth, swallowing her words. Holtzmann starts to fight, but the girl cups her breasts through the thin fabric of her old, white tank top. She strokes her skin through the almost sheer fabric, and Jillian's body immediately responds.
Pleasure pours into her from every touch. Slowly but surely, the redhead backs her up against her bed where, at last, Holtzmann goes willingly. The stranger slides her hands underneath Holtzmann's top, taking her breasts completely in her hands and stroking, squeezing . . . Holtzmann groans, but the girl's mouth swallows the sound.
She straddles her hips as she pushes her top off over her head. There's a crashing sound as the discarded top knocks Holtzmann's clock with its warning numbers to the floor. The girl replaces her hands with her mouth. Her teeth draw on her hard nipples as she sucks. Holtzmann's scream of pleasure rips out of the small, motel room.
She wriggles on top of her as she sucks. The position she pulls herself into should be impossible, but it's not for this chick. She's on her knees before Holtzmann, wriggling her shorts off over her hips, but mouth's still hot and suckling on her breasts. Her fingers stroke her calves, then higher into her dark and curly hairs.
Holtzmann's never felt such pleasure in all her life. Her eyes drift closed, and she lets her pleasure scream out. She feels the girl's lips smiling around her left breast. Her fingers tangle in the stranger's red hair as the girl murmurs something she can't quite hear. She's about to ask her what she's saying when she thrusts first one finger and then another sweetly into her hole.
Holtzmann gives herself up to the pleasure, one scream after another ripping out across the yard. The girl wriggles again against her. She cups her breasts with her hands and changes the position of her mouth, going on down her, gently nibbling her clit, sliding her tongue between the tender folds between her legs, sliding up into her . . . Holtzmann screams again and again. All thoughts cease, and all she knows is pleasure until --
Until banging erupts on her door. "HOLTZMANN!"
Jillian stirs slightly at the sound of Patty's voice. She remembers the girl saying that Patty had told her she'd be a willing partner tonight, but then the stranger's tongue thrusts higher inside of her. Jillian loses her thoughts with another scream.
Outside her room, Patty mutters angrily, "We're breaking this damn door down now!"
"But what if she's . . . you know . . . having fun?" Abby asks.
"With who?" Erin demands. "We don't know any one out here!"
"She could've . . . hired some one, you know."
"Fuck that shit!" Patty slams everything she's got into the door. It busts underneath her weight. She topples into the room, takes one look at Jillian writhing in pleasure and the girl giving it to her, and starts cussing. "DAMN IT! DAMN IT! THAT'S A DAMN GHOST IF I EVER SAW ONE!"
Abby stands in shock, her face pale. "But look at what she's doing to her!"
"I'd rather not," Erin murmurs, turning as red as Abby's night gown, one she just bought recently before they left New York to come out here to Kansas.
"Well, don't just stand there!" Abby cries as Holtzmann, completely unaware of their presence in her room, screams.
"I think they are doing something," Erin mutters. "That's rather the point, isn't it?"
"FUCK NO!" Patty screams.
Abby can't help giggling at that. "Fuck yeah," she says even as Holtzmann rips loose with another scream.
Patty scrambles for her friend's proton gun. She slings it onto her back and aims the gun at the transparent redhead now floating in the air above Holtzmann, her fingers busy with her friend's breasts, her mouth somewhere inside of her . . .
The redhead hears the gun firing up. Her head turns without her body moving to look directly at Patty. "Damn it!" she exclaims, licking her lips. "I was just getting to the best part!"
Holtzmann's eyes flutter open. She looks dazedly up at her lover -- and at the ceiling she can see through her head, but all she can do is groan in confusion, "Huh?"
Patty fires the proton gun. "Later, bitch." The ghost vanishes from sight just before the beam can strike her. It passes over Holtzmann's head, sending the Ghostbuster rolling off of her bed with a startled cuss and hitting the hard floor hard on her bare knees. The beam shoots out of a corner of the motel room.
Patty's still cussing as she lays down the gun. Erin shakes her head. "I suppose this is another place where we be unable to stay in the future."
Holtzmann peers at them from over the far side of her bed. "What just happened?" she demands. She casts glances around the room, but the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach tells her she's not going to be finding that luscious redhead any time soon.
Abby grins at her. "You just got loved by a ghost."
For the first time since the four of them became a team, Holtzmann gazes back at her former flame and doesn't feel the pang of jealousy she's been feeling ever since she hooked back up with her ex. She smiles broadly back instead. "It was good, too," she admits, glowing.
Abby laughs. Patty cusses again but then starts to laugh. The deep sound resonates through the motel room and springs Holtzmann's laughter into sounding. Even Erin begins to giggle, but that giggle stops when Holtzmann calls, "Somebody hand me some clothes."
Erin looks away, her face turning red once more as Patty strides forward, grabs Holtzmann's discarded clothes, and tosses them to her. The sound of her friends' laughter soon has Erin laughing again. They all stop laughing, however, when a light but unseen voice calls out, "Trick or treat."
Patty leaps back to the proton pack. She waves the gun menacingly around, but the ghost doesn't show. Slipping on her clothes behind the bed, Holtzmann smiles to herself. She just got tricked and treated. She'd like to see the ghost again, but she's got the feeling she won't. Indeed she doesn't for their whole stay at The Blackbird Motel, but when she sleeps in the heat of the night and her body moves again in rigid need, she's visited once more by that beautiful, redheaded ghost always sating her need and leaving her with a big smile and nothing more.