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On their first Valentine’s Day as a couple, a furious class IV entity crashed their romantic evening as she crashed through the bar they were sitting at, shrieking, upturning tables, and flinging glasses at windows and patrons while enacting a vengeance she’d sworn long ago against love and lovers. The ornate 18th-century restaurant Erin had selected to mark the occasion in her and Holtzmann’s relationship, with its warm brick interior, delicate candlelight chandelier, and arched, stained-glass windows that overlooked the garden had - unbeknownst to her, and exactly 100 years to the day prior - served as the site of the brutal axe murder of a woman whose husband discovered her illicit affairs with another man and put a permanent end to them.
It was a tidbit none of the fine dining guide books she’d consulted bothered to mention, Erin thought bitterly, as she shrugged on her proton pack behind the cover of the wall that divided the kitchen from the main room. Across the city, Abby and Patty were unreachable, and so Holtzmann gave a little whoop of validation that her insistence on taking the mini packs along in her duffel had paid off.
With no jumpsuit and no time to waste, Erin tore the brand-new, floor-length dress she’d picked out specifically because it reminded her of the color of her girlfriend’s eyes up to her hip on each side for ease of mobility. She caught four scratches across the stomach and a burn to the arm before Holtzmann managed to kick the trap underneath the ghost. By the time she disappeared into the shimmering void, Erin and Holtz were covered in slime, the restaurant destroyed, their clothes destroyed, their holiday over before it had ever begun.
Normally, Holtzmann would have slipped her hand into Erin’s, kissed her in full view of everyone, slime or no slime, made her laugh over the chaos and disorder that ensured their lives were nothing if not colorful. And normally, Erin would have joined in on Holtzmann’s excitement, giggling, celebrating, and otherwise riding the adrenaline high of a successful bust. But tonight, with one look at Erin’s crushed face as she took in the state of herself and her surroundings, Holtzmann seemed to know better than to try and make the situation better.
They shared a quiet taxi ride home, both of them exhausted and apologetic and irritated in equal measure - though not at each other, never for the things outside of their control.
After a shared shower that was anything but sexy, Holtzmann tended to Erin’s wounds, soothed them over kisses and covered them with the only matching set of pajamas she owned, soft and dark and sprinkled with the wide-eyed faces of little green aliens. Erin, still pouting, let Holtzmann take her by the hands and lead her over to the bed, even cracking the tiniest of smiles at the way her girlfriend hopped onto its surface and crawled over to her like a cat before wrapping her arms around Erin’s stomach.
“I’m sorry the ghost ruined our night,” Holtzmann offered. She shuffled around, arms still linked around Erin, to rest her head in her girlfriend’s lap. She flicked her eyes upward to peer at Erin, who responded by threading her hand gently through Holtzmann’s hair. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“No, I’m the one who should be making it up to you.” Erin ran her fingers through the soft blonde curls still drying under her hand. She smoothed her thumb over the spot where Holtzmann’s brows knitted in response, and continued, “In a way, I feel like I should’ve expected this. Whenever I try to do stuff like this, it tends to explode spectacularly in my face. Which is fine - I expect it by now. I just…”
She sighed.
“I just wanted to do something really nice and special for you.”
“Well, it wasn’t a complete disaster.” Holtzmann grinned as she traced a fingertip along Erin’s thigh. “First of all, I got to see you fight ghosts with your dress ripped up the side in what is basically every lesbian’s fantasy.”
Erin shrugged sheepishly.
“Second - ” She moved backward on the bed, pulling Erin down with her until Erin finally gave in and laughed at her antics. Erin shifted so she was facing Holtzmann, and Holtzmann cupped her cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I had a great time with you tonight. And now Erin Gilbert is in my bed, wearing my clothes, which is a pretty good outcome, all things considered.”
“I do like these pants,” Erin admitted. And just like that, her disappointment began to melt away in the warmth and reassurance of Holtzmann looking at her like she was made of stars. Her shoulders relaxed, and the tight band of anxiety around her chest she hadn’t recognized as such slowly loosened. She reminded herself perfection was no longer an expectation, nor had it ever been a condition of being with Holtzmann.
Holtzmann kissed her forehead, then leaned forward and kissed her straight-on. “So, maybe it’s okay things didn’t turn out as planned,” she said, “and maybe next year, I can be the one who does something really nice and special for you. Okay?”
She considered it.
“Okay.”
On their second Valentine’s Day together, Holtzmann doubled down on her decision that in light of how disastrous their first one had been, she was going to plan something to surprise Erin. It was nothing fancy - fancy was more Erin’s style - but it was built on all of the things Holtzmann had learned about Erin over the past two years, all of their inside jokes and accidental traditions born in special memories they shared, and she buzzed with excitement thinking about how she was going to pull it off.
It helped that this year, Erin was busy. Between their normal workload of errant spooks and spectres, the increased requests for guest speakers by various universities and conferences now that the Ghostbusters were more established, and Erin’s belief she was on the cusp of a breakthrough in her research, Erin worked long hours and lost track of the days. The city government, true to form, had never stopped publicly discrediting them or begging them for discretion. The people of New York, however, were not so easily swayed after all they’d seen with their own eyes. They were still far from celebrated in every corner of the city, but they’d found their place among the folks who, much like themselves, simply craved validation for the things they’d experienced firsthand.
Holtzmann kissed her head and slipped cups of tea into her hands while her girlfriend fell asleep at her desk, earning her soft smiles and sleepy affections. Because Erin was so thoroughly distracted, she never noticed all the times Holtzmann would sneak away from the lab to acquire supplies and put plans into motion, nor did she realize Holtz had roped their teammates into covering for her. Erin was bubbling over with joy and yet so distracted and it was so cute, Holtzmann grew emboldened in her audacity. She even began discussing the details directly in front of Erin, and her girlfriend, much to her delight, could listen to Holtzmann talk about her plans only to process none of what she said.
Four days before Valentine’s Day, Holtzmann came up behind Erin at her desk, and a quick massage of her shoulders turned into Holtz draping herself over her girlfriend’s back, looping her arms around her collar, and kissing her cheek. “Hey,” she said, “I’m taking you away from this desk on Valentine’s Day. I’ll tell you when, when the time comes. I have everything planned, so all you have to do is bring your gorgeous self, okay?”
She had a little cough she chalked up to a cold, a scratchiness in her throat she attributed to nerves. She ignored it, certain it would pass or some over-the-counter medicine would soothe it away.
But two days before Valentine’s Day, Holtzmann woke up in a daze and a pool of sweat, in the grip of a full-blown flu that made every movement hurt and every thought feel excruciating.
Erin, Abby, and Patty took turns bringing her groceries and switching out the bottles of water she had to keep on her nightstand to drink anything at all, lacking the energy to cross her apartment and reach the kitchen. On the nights where she felt especially pathetic, Erin stayed, masked up by her side, and rubbed her back until she fell asleep, but for the most part, it wasn’t safe for any of them to spend too much time around her. Holtzmann alternated between wrapping herself in a cozy nest of blankets and pushing them all to the floor because she was always too hot, left with little choice but to ride out the storm.
After two and a half weeks, her fever finally broke and stayed gone. Her cough cleared up; her body stopped aching with the ferocity of someone who’d been hit by a truck, and breathing slowly, slowly started to come easier. She found the energy to shower and to eat a full meal for the first time in days, resisting the urge to scarf down the contents of her fridge to make up for all the nutrients whose absence suddenly felt palpable in her stomach. She changed her sheets and slept more soundly that night than she had since before she got sick, and in the morning, she asked Erin to come over, itching for the opportunity to hug her.
By the time she recovered, it was March, and neither she nor Erin felt especially up to a celebration. With the feeble strength she’d regained, Holtzmann was content to be able to snuggle Erin without the risk of infecting her; she’d missed that more than anything during the weeks she was sick. Still, while stretched out across Erin’s lap one night, she couldn’t help but ponder the peculiarities of their particular misfortune.
Once, after all, was a coincidence - twice was becoming a strange pattern.
“I’m starting to think this date might be cursed for us,” Holtzmann grumbled, looking up at Erin with an expression that strode the line somewhere between pouty and deadly serious.
“Agreed.”
They made no plans or promises for the next year, each convinced if they did, it would anger whatever romance deities might exist, who already seemed to have a personal vendetta against one or both of them as it was.
Erin did her best to ignore Valentine’s Day completely their third year together. She pushed her red sweaters and the repaired dress from their first year (or rather, the reanimated dress, as Holtzmann put it, having sewn the remnants into something new that only vaguely resembled her original ensemble) to the back of her closet; she got twitchy when shops went all-out in decorating for the occasion.
In the time she’d spent studying the paranormal, Erin had become relatively certain of a few things she couldn’t prove. One was that human beings each had a unique metaphysical energy spirits could detect, and much like how some personalities would simply never mesh no matter how much the individuals involved tried, the wrong person paired with the wrong ghost could unknowingly incite the entity’s rage. A person who repeatedly left paranormal encounters dripping from head to toe in ectoplasm, like herself, innately attracted spiritual aggression because she was unlucky, and there was nothing she could do to change it. Second, and for a similar reason, certain people were more vulnerable to possession than others. A ghost seeking out a human host would inevitably target Abby before Erin, Holtzmann, or Patty, for reasons which weren’t Abby’s fault and which none of them could control.
If her theory could consistently predict this phenomenon with any degree of accuracy, she surmised, by extension, perhaps she and Holtzmann were somehow inviting bad luck into their lives by participating in Valentine’s Day, and so maybe they shouldn’t.
Of course, despite swearing off Valentine’s Day, she and Holtzmann still shared regular dates, impromptu adventures and outings well-planned in advance. Three years was the longest Erin had stayed in a relationship in quite some time, and she spent too much of the first one waiting for the other shoe to drop - cherishing every time Holtzmann looked at her like she was everything because she half-expected it to stop. No matter what her previous partners promised, they always grew bored of her in time, and it never helped that nothing she ever tried went according to plan.
Holtzmann, however, looked at Erin like she was the sun and the stars and all the atoms in the universe during all of the moments, not only the special ones. Holtzmann sometimes watched her with an expression that could only be described as reverent when Erin did tasks as simple as laundry, or rambled with excitement over her new system for filing paperwork, or even just existed in the same room as her, reading or sleeping or sitting beside her. She stayed and stayed and stayed, and the way her eyes sparkled in Erin’s direction never changed.
All things considered, Erin was starting to relax in her relationship with Holtzmann.
Saturday the 9th came and Erin had the day to herself, with Holtzmann away visiting Dr. Gorin, Abby and Patty on call this week at the firehouse in the event of an after-hours emergency. The snow eased up, and she strolled the streets of the city, taking in all of the soft lights and quiet comforts of the New York winter. It would be spring soon, with new flowers sprouting up in the cracks on the sidewalk, splashes of green breaking through in the most unexpected places until the city was flourishing in them once more. Erin smiled as she traced her hand along the wrought-iron fence separating her favorite park off the beaten path from the rest of the landscape. She couldn’t help but follow it to where its entrance opened up, and as she glanced around at all the changes the park’s latest renovation project had brought about, one thing in particular caught her eye.
The ice skating rink was open again, after a long absence.
Erin looked out across the rink, and her thoughts drifted to images of her and Holtzmann holding hands under the stars, warm and cozy despite the cold and bundled up against the chill, bathed in the wintery magic that was ice skating in New York City. Erin was three years old the first time her parents set her down on the ice - so young she took off running regardless of how many times she fell - and she had so many wonderful memories of skating with her family and friends on everything from the beautiful, intricately lighted rinks like the one in front of her to the questionable frozen lakes her adult self wouldn’t dare venture out onto. She wondered why she’d never thought to bring her girlfriend here before, when she was so soft over the idea of sharing this with the person she loved.
On the side of the changing room attached to the rink, the park was advertising a skate night for its grand reopening. The date gave Erin pause, but only for a moment. The flutter in her heart won out; she purchased the tickets, and tucked them into her purse, exiting the park with a smile at the sweet little secret she carried.
Monday the 11th followed, and as Erin filed into the firehouse to join Abby and Patty for breakfast, she beamed and bounced on her feet a little as she couldn’t wait to tell Holtzmann she’d made plans for the two of them, after all. Evidently, her joy was written all across her face.
“You’re awfully smiley today,” Abby commented, passing her a plate. “Are you really this excited about that grant you’re writing, or did you do something?”
“I am really this excited about the grant I’m writing. My proposal is really strong,” Erin replied, sincerely, “but I also came up with a cute date idea for Valentine’s Day, and I can’t wait for Holtzmann to know about it.”
“I thought you weren’t doing the Valentine’s Day thing any more,” Patty said, as she slid into the seat by Erin’s side. “Something about it being cursed?”
“Yeah, she definitely said ‘cursed.’ Many times, in fact, usually with a handful of swear words attached.”
Erin shrugged. “I’m…tentatively hopeful? I think this could finally be the year it works out.”
“Okay, well I’m not going to be the person who rains on your parade. I’m glad you’re giving it another go.” Patty chuckled. “What’s your big plans this year?”
“Ice skating. They’re hosting a big event over at Gorky Park; it just reopened.” Erin smiled. “I thought it sounded perfect, though, because the first time I met Holtzmann, she introduced herself to me with four facts about herself: ‘Virgo, avid skater, gluten-full, and 100% jazzed to meet you.’ Like, those were the four things she found most important to tell me, and it was so striking because it was so strange. Looking back, she was definitely flirting, but…I didn’t realize it back then. Not that it matters now, because it worked out, but we’ve never done it together, and…yeah. I thought it’d be fun, and fitting, and maybe the third time will be the charm.”
A heat rose in Erin’s cheeks as she realized she was rambling a little, but then she heard the unmistakeable sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs which could only belong to her girlfriend, and she all but shot up out of her seat to show Holtzmann what she’d done.
“Oh! She’s here. Sorry to cut things short, but - ” Erin gave an excited little cry and a giggle, happily stimming her fingers. “I want to show her right now! I’ll see you guys later!”
With that, she rushed off - and if Erin noticed the odd look Abby and Patty exchanged as she left, she didn’t think about it.
Patty’s brow furrowed once Erin was out of sight, shooting a glance at Abby. “Skating?” she repeated quietly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t skiing Holtzy’s thing she loves so much?”
“Holtzmann’s a phenomenal skier,” Abby affirmed. “I’m…not positive she can’t skate, but I’ve never seen her skate. And I feel like that would have definitely come up, given all the times we went and watched roller derby together.”
“You think Erin misunderstood? Do you think we should give them a heads-up?”
Abby thought about it. “We should give Holtz a heads-up,” she replied. “Erin…I’m gonna let them figure that one out.”
“Patty,” Holtzmann whined, sticking her bottom lip out in the most persuasive pout she could manage. “Help me.”
“Honey, just tell Erin you don’t know how to skate. It’ll be fine. It’s not like you can’t go ice skating just because you don’t know how - plenty of people there will be beginners. She’ll just know to hold your hands while you do it so you don’t fall on your butt. What’s got you so nervous about telling her the truth?”
Holtzmann didn’t answer, instead fidgeting with the tangle of wires and metal in her hands, refusing to meet Patty’s eyes.
“Holtzy.” Patty placed a hand on her back. “I’m not judging you. But you know how these sitcom shenanigans always end - she’s going to find out one way or another. You’re never like this; what’s going on?”
She crossed her arms. Chewed her lip, trying to find the words to explain. “I want one thing Erin plans to go exactly how she envisions it,” she said finally. “Even when it’s not her fault, she thinks it’s her fault when it doesn’t. And then she gets all sad and pouty for a while even if it turns out fine, because to her, it feels like we just salvaged the remains of what could’ve been and called it good enough. And then she feels like she’s not good enough.”
Patty rubbed her shoulder.
“I don’t want this to be good enough. I want it to be perfect. I want her to be happy. And it’s not like I won’t tell her eventually - I will! Just…later. The day after, maybe.” Holtzmann gave an exaggerated groan, sliding forward until she was sprawled across Patty’s lap and her face was buried in the couch cushion. “Help meeeeee.”
“Okay, okay. Patty’s got you; I’ll help you. I just want it on the record I think this is a bad idea. First things first: do you actually own skates?”
“I’ve acquired my ice knives, yes,” Holtzmann replied.
“There’s a rink out behind my apartment building. Meet me after work and we can take the train over to get some practice in before Thursday.”
For the next three days, Holtzmann dutifully met Patty at her apartment, ice skates draped around her shoulders by the ties. Her first lesson was simply to walk from the bench outside to the ice, which she found more difficult than what followed, not that any of it came naturally to her. From there, Patty taught her how to fall safely (warning her to expect it), a couple of different positions to glide forward, and how to stop, the latter of which she never quite got the hang of. Patty was a good teacher, patient and encouraging, and Holtzmann was grateful to have arrived at a place in her life where she finally had friends to learn new things from.
They practiced for an hour or two each night, which was about all either could handle - Holtzmann was surprised by how intense of a workout ice skating could be, though she wondered if her inexperience left her out of breath faster. Abby joined them on the second day, a bit out of practice herself, but she seemed to quickly regain her skills on the rink.
By Wednesday night, Holtzmann had not managed to move very far from the railing, and for some reason, she continued to only feel comfortable using her left foot to push off. She made more progress holding tight to her friend’s arm, but the second she was on her own, it was like all of her woeful uncoordination descended upon her and she either fell or didn’t dare make bolder attempts. She oscillated between irritated and embarrassed and even more determined that she was a nuclear physicist, god damn it, and balancing on these thin little ice knives was not going to get the better of her.
There were even moments where it was fun, learning how to skate, and perhaps in less stressful circumstances, she might have let her zanier side take reign, attempted much wilder moves on the ice. By all accounts, and as Patty often reminded her, she was already doing much better than when she started, but it was far from effortless. Still, Holtzmann thought, it might just be enough to convince Erin she’d skated before - and now, it wasn’t entirely going to be a lie.
Fake it ‘til you make it, right? I can do this, Holtzmann told herself, wobbling on her ice skates as she walked off of the ice.
She could do this. She had to. She could fake being good at skating for one night, and it would all be worth it if it meant seeing Erin happy.
Erin stole a glance at Holtzmann as she laced up her skates in the Gorky Park changing room, smiling to herself at how methodically her fingers worked. She moved with the same precision and care Erin had seen so many times in their line of work, stripping the wires in their proton packs, embroidering the small, intricate details of their Ghostbusters patches. Long mismatched socks, one rainbow, and one striped in gold and green, peeked out from above the tops of her skates. One of the two matched the rainbow knitted hat Holtzmann had pulled down around her ears, a few stray blonde curls poking out of the front, framing pink cheeks and dimples. The entire picture was incredibly cute, and Erin’s heart was already so full.
“Are you ready to go?” Erin asked. She stood up on her skates and reached down to take Holtzmann’s hands, pulling her girlfriend up onto her feet.
“After you, cupcake,” Holtzmann responded, in a low voice that made a shiver run up Erin’s spine. She slipped her arms around Erin’s waist, leaned in almost close enough to kiss her, and Erin huffed out a soft laugh.
“Not allowed. Very not allowed to be doing that already.”
“So after skating, I’m allowed to kiss you wherever I want?” Holtzmann waggled a brow at Erin, whose eye roll wasn’t enough to hide the instant flush in her cheeks.
“...maybe.”
They held hands as they walked out onto the ice. Holtzmann placed a hand on Erin’s forearm as she followed her, and Erin responded by entwining their arms so they could skate side-by-side. The fading sun was soon replaced by the moon, and a light snow fell around them as they made their way around the track. It was nice, Erin thought - romantic and serene, a scene straight out of a movie, and she couldn’t help but smile.
But after a while, Erin started to notice Holtzmann seemed abnormally quiet, uncharacteristically tense, and unsteady on her feet. The first time she lost her balance, Erin leaned into her to steady her, giving a lighthearted, “Oh, careful!” Everyone slipped while ice skating sometimes; she didn’t think much of it, at least at first. Holtzmann continued to wobble and grip Erin tighter, though, and the more she struggled, the tenser and quieter she became.
“What’s wrong? I thought you were, like, an expert at skating,” Erin said. Her arm shot out to steady Holtzmann as her girlfriend lost her balance again, nearly falling backwards.
“Just out of practice,” Holtzmann offered weakly, with a smile Erin saw right through.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt? You shouldn’t skate if you’re hurt - whoa!”
This time, Holtzmann did fall before Erin could stop her. Erin skidded to a stop and knelt down beside her. She extended a hand to help her up, but Holtzmann ignored it. She rolled onto her knees and scrambled to a standing position, then rushed off the rink toward a nearby bench, not looking back at Erin once.
Erin followed her, thoroughly at a loss for what happened. Holtzmann sat down hard, fidgeting with her hands, still not looking Erin in the eyes even as she sat down next to her.
“Jillian, please tell me what is going on,” Erin breathed, placing a hand on her knee. “If you’re hurt or you’re not feeling well or just not feeling up to skating tonight, we don’t have to. We can go home; it’s okay. But you have to tell me what’s going on.”
A long moment of silence passed. Finally, Holtzmann spoke up: “Do you remember the very first thing I ever said to you, back at Higgins?”
Erin blinked. “Well, sure. You said, ‘Holtzmann, Virgo, avid skater…”
“Skier.”
“What?”
“What I said to you when we first met - I said, ‘Virgo, avid skier.’ I’ve been skiing since I was a kid. I only started skating this week, after you bought tickets to this.”
“But why didn’t you say something? I wouldn’t have pulled you around so fast if I’d known you were new to this.” Confusion spread across Erin’s face, then understanding settled in as Holtzmann wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t answer, and tears sprung up behind stormy eyes as she drew her knees to her chest, the blades of her skates hitting the bench underneath her.
“Holtz,” Erin said gently, “did you pretend to be good at skating because you didn’t want to correct me?”
Holtzmann still didn’t answer, and tightened her arms around her knees, but then Erin laughed.
“Why is that such a thing that would happen to us? Aww.” She wrapped both of her arms around Holtzmann and held her close. “I’m sorry. But Holtz…I wasn’t expecting anything, except to share this with you tonight.”
Holtzmann sighed, leaning into the closeness and the contact. “Patty said I should tell you,” she admitted. “I just wanted one Valentine’s Day to go perfectly because I like seeing you happy.”
“I mean, this is a vast improvement from slime and second degree burns. That hurt really, really bad. You know, you’d think the slime might be soothing on the skin, but it’s not.”
“Very much the opposite.”
“Yeah! It’s the worst!” Erin tipped Holtzmann’s chin up to look at her, and Holtzmann rewarded her with a tentative smile. “And I’ll take skating with you over worrying about you being sick anyday. Maybe nothing we plan will ever be perfect, but I’m having a great time with you so far. I don’t care if you’re good at it. I like that it’s something we can do together.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Erin affirmed. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Holtzmann’s in a loving kiss. “So, how about we go back out, and we go a little slower this time? I’ll hold onto you the whole time unless you want to try on your own.”
This time, when Erin extended her hands and Holtzmann took them, she did so with a little more enthusiasm than she had before.
Once Erin knew the truth, and now that she didn’t need to channel so much energy into pretending to be good at it, Holtzmann seemed to take to skating. Erin linked arms with her and held her securely upright, gradually guiding her further and further away from the wall until both were freely gliding through the center of the track.
Erin seized an opportunity to show off a little, skating backwards and in circles around Holtzmann, until she was laughing and her girlfriend was grinning at her, and the world around them ceased to exist. They gave into the moment as the snow began to fall anew, snowflakes shimmering under the stars and the lights of the rink. Holtzmann gently pushed Erin against the railing and kissed her deeply.
They stumbled off the ice a few hours later, both so sore they could barely walk, but they were happy, and nothing else mattered.