Jill has a lot going on, okay? She’s a genius and she hunts ghosts now and there’s just a lot to pay attention to, recently. It’s not like she’s ever been very good at people or paying attention or general life skills.
Case in point: she reaches for her juice, fumbling, letting it fall to the floor. She’ll clean it up later after Abby yells at her. This quantum polarity generator is too important to be distracted from right now. The juice never falls, though, caught inches from the ground by someone else’s hand. She looks up into Patty’s eyes, flirting on instinct.
“Well, hey there, sunshine!” She holds out a hand, beaming, letting Patty place the juice gently in her palm. Jeez, she’s tall. Jill wants to climb her like a particularly attractive tree. “So, whadaya say? You, me, a secluded subway tunnel?”
Patty cackles, slapping her on the back until Jill feels like a particularly large baby being burped. “Damn, Holtzman, you are so funny.” Patty walks off, still laughing, leaving Jill standing forlorn as she sips at her juice. Heartbroken she may be, but apple juice is forever.
They’re on a case of a ghost who likes to possess puppets, which is beyond creepy and into the realm of Lovecraftian. She’s teamed up with Patty this time, sneaking around behind her and really admiring the way her uniform fits.
They’re alone for real this time, no Abby waiting around the corner to extrapolate on wontons or Erin to go into way too much detail about her latest terrible date and Jill loves these guys but she’s trying to get laid, okay?
“Hey, uh, Patty?”
“Hm?” Patty’s not really paying attention, gripping her gun tight as she peers around corners.
“I just wanted to say-” The ghost pops out, huge and purple, screaming; they both ready their guns.
“Tell me later!” Patty yells over the sound of their beams.
Even though Jill loves hunting ghosts, she can feel her shoulders slump. “Yeah. Sure.”
The thing is, Jill really likes Patty. She likes that Patty never treats her like a particularly intelligent child or that Patty knows more about New York than anyone, ever, or that when Patty’s at her back Jill knows she’ll be safe no matter how many ghosts they fight, because Patty is strong and she never gives up on her friends.
She tells all this to Patty one night after a few too many glasses of wine, maybe slurring a little. Patty’s eyes are a little teary, maybe. “Aw, Holtzmann. You’re sweet.” Patty stands, stretching, and heads back to bed. She’s wearing boxer shorts; her legs are long and strong and Jill wants to tear those pants right off her.
How is it fair that Jill Holtzmann, who slept her way through the girls in her college like it was nothing, has failed in this? She’s Jill Holtzmann! She saved New York City from thousands of ghosts! She can do anything! Except, apparently, get Patty to notice that her affection is a lot more than platonic. Pouting, Jill rests her chin on her hands.
“Failed again?” Abby asks, coming into the kitchen with a pile of books tucked under one arm. There’s a noodle in her hair, swaying, but maybe she wants it there. Jill frowns, sliding her goggles up her nose to hide any expression.
“I dunno what you’re talking about,” she answers, spinning around on her stool and making whoosh noises for affect.
“Okay, Holtzmann. Whatever you want to pretend, you can pretend,” Abby says, slamming the books on the table so Jill jumps.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jill says softly, honest. She hates being emotional when she’s sober and not high off the euphoria of having saved the city. Which was totally awesome, by the way.
Abby nods, always so easy. “Sure. Anyway, have you seen this text about wailing women and their historical significance? Very interesting.” Jill slides her glasses back down her nose, bending over to look. Thank goodness for ghosts.
Jill shows up on Patty’s birthday with flowers, which it turns out she’s allergic to. Between all the sneezing, Jill can just hear her say “Thank you!”
Later, when the flowers are thrown in the dumpster behind their building, Patty is going on about how great it is that women can platonically give each other flowers, although she can’t really appreciate them.
Jill produces Patty’s other gift, a plasma generator trap that she spent days on and created just for her. Patty is flatteringly thrilled with it, beaming up at Jill so wide that she feels her heart flutter in her chest. Jeez, this is so embarrassing. She’s almost definitely too cool to have a crush like this.
Jill swings her arm around Patty’s shoulders; she smells like cinnamon, and what do you know? Jill loves cinnamon. “I got it just for you,” she says, emphasizing.
“It’s great, Jill. I love it,” Patty says, wrapping her up in a huge hug that’s all warmth and Patty and Jill is so in love with this woman. Abby’s giving her pitying looks from the sofa across from them. Jill understands. She just squeezes Patty a little tighter.
The Ghostbusters have been invited to the release of a movie about ‘Ghosts: In The Walls! In Your Walls? Maybe!’ Jill thinks it’s a terrible title, but there’s free food and they promised she could wear her overalls, which is all she asks out of life. A woman has to find what she’s comfortable with and stick to it.
For the occasion, Jill wears her special overalls, which have barely any scorch marks on them and only one hole, which is even on the knee so it’s fashionable. She adjusts her goggles on her forehead, the pair with rhinestones. Look out world, here comes Jillian Holtzmann.
She hears heels clicking, then Patty says, “How do I look?” from behind her. Jill turns, staggering back so she almost trips over her chair. Patty’s wearing a bright red dress, skin glowing, makeup done. She looks like pretty much every wet dream Jillian has ever had. Beautiful women in dresses is her thing, she has simple tastes.
“Uh, wow,” she manages to get out, frantically cleaning her goggles so she won’t stare.
“Too much?” Patty asks, worried.
“Oh man, hey, no! You look great.” Softer, she adds, “Honestly, Patty, you’re beautiful.” Patty beams at her, and Jill smiles back. “Now c’mon, let’s get your gorgeous ass to this movie.”
Jill trips and falls, the pseudo-molecular force conjoiner tumbling from her hands in a graceful, breakable arc. “Oh, fu-” Jill starts, but it’s caught in midair by Patty, who places it gently on the table next to them. Jill crouches, facing her unharmed baby. “Wow, my dude, thank you so much. I could kiss you,” she says without really thinking about it, messing around with tiny, fiddly parts.
“Then why don’t you?” Jill continues on for a merry few seconds until that registers. She stands, facing Patty, kinda feeling like the rug has not only been pulled out from under her, but someone has started hitting her with it.
“C’mon, like I never noticed you flirting with me?” Patty teases, and Jill takes a step closer, then another, til she’s pressed up against her, perfectly happy. “I just finally realized you were never gonna do anything about it.”
Patty kisses her, finally, Jill going to her tiptoes, opening her mouth. What can she say? She’s easy. They kiss like that for a while, lost in each other, til Jill breaks it to smile up at her. “Hey, uh, I have a question.”
“Yeah, honey?” Patty has her hands tangled in Jill’s hair like she doesn’t want to let her get too far.
“Are you a ghost? Cause you’ve been haunting my dreams.” Patty groans and leans down to shut her up, hands sliding lower. Well. It’s not like Jill minds.