Archive of Our Own

“I've been seeing someone.”

She gives the information voluntarily. Her sister hasn't asked. Hasn't asked in a long time. Stopped asking a while ago. There's a pause.

“You have?”

“Yeah.”

“Jillian, that's wonderful. What's her name?”

“Erin.”

Silence.

“Erin and I are dating,” she says. There is still silence on the other end of the phone call, but then Karen speaks, soft but clear.

“Are you serious?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“It happened.”

“Yeah,” she says, a smile spreading over her face. “Yeah, it happened.”

“Jillian…” her sister practically whispers, sounding more than a little awestruck, and it just makes her smile grow even wider.

“I'm gonna marry her,” she states simply, never more sure about a single thing in her life.

“You… what?” Karen asks. “You didn't-- I mean, I know there's that whole stereotype about lesbians moving fast but--”

“No, god, I haven't asked her,” she laughs. “But I'm going to. Eventually. Not any time soon. I just… I'm gonna marry her. She's the girl that I'm going to marry. I know it.”

*

She doesn't ask her.

At least, not really.

“Marry me.”

It's not a question. She doesn't even mean to say it. It just comes out. It's nothing like how she thought it would be. But it's perfect.

“Will you marry me?”

It's Erin who asks the question.

And Jillian nods, tears in her eyes, Erin's hands on her face, and she's never been more sure about a single thing in her life.

“Yes.”

*

The thunder should have been enough of a warning, but she didn't take it as such. She ignored it completely. So, when she gets caught in the rain, she really only has herself to blame. She hurries back to the firehouse, the rain coming hard and fast, streets filling more quickly than they can drain, her grasp on the salvaged parts becoming slippery. She drops everything to the floor as soon as she steps inside.

She expects the firehouse to be empty, but then she hears movement, and Erin is there, looking at her.

“Hey, it's raining, did you know?” she points out, pushing her damp hair from her face.

Her clothes are soaked and her shoes are filled with rain, so she pulls them off right there in the doorway because that's what makes sense to her. She's fully aware of Erin's eyes on her as she passes by in just her underthings.

“Do you have a tattoo?!”

Erin follows her up the stairs, into the small room that she spends more nights in than her own apartment. She’s aware of how messy the room is. She’s not surprised that Erin asks if she’s living there. She has clothes in a pile on the floor and she rummages through them to find something to put on. She pulls a shirt on, is looking for underwear, but the underwear she finds are unfamiliar to her.

She holds them up, tilting her head to one side in confusion.

“These aren’t mine,” she mumbles to herself.

“Do you bring girls here?”

She hadn’t been aware that Erin was even looking at her. She's still naked from the waist down -- although her shirt falls somewhat below her hips -- and she's extremely aware of the fact that her butt is on full display. But her air of confidence is unwavering and she simply turns her head to look behind her, grinning at Erin in answer to the question.

"Holtz! Really? Here?!”

“It’s just so easy!” she exclaims. “I just ask if they want to come back and see my neuro-nuclear space fission reactor, and then…,” she trails off, swinging the unfamiliar underwear around her index finger.

“Neuro-nuclear… space…?” Erin mumbles, sounding confused. “What… is that… is that even--”

She laughs. Loudly. Shakes her head.

“It’s nothing! It’s completely made up!”

“And that works ?”

“Every single time!”

“Do me a favour? Marry the first girl that doesn’t fall for that crap.”

“If you insist.”

*

“I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer,” Jillian reads aloud before closing the book in her hands, turning her head to the side to look up at Erin. “Congratulations, Erin Gilbert, you just finished your first ever Harry Potter book.”

Erin laughs, and Jillian’s head moves on Erin’s stomach.

“Thank you very much,” Erin says, her hand resting in Jillian’s hair. They’ve been lying there for hours now. They’ve readjusted every so often, getting too sweaty after being in one position for too long. When they first got to Central Park, the sun had been situated directly above them. Now it’s slowly beginning to set.

“We should probably head back soon,” Erin tells her. Jillian agrees and they pack up their things, leaving the large, grassy field. They walk. Hand-in-hand.

She already feels like she’s floating through some sort of dream world, and then the fireflies only make her even more certain that this can’t be real. That this life -- this life where she holds Erin’s hand after spending an entire day with her -- this life is just too good.

“Oh, look,” she grins, nodding her head towards the little bursts of yellow floating around them. “Fireflies. I know it’s just bioluminescence, luciferase, adenosine triphosphate, all that stuff, but it’s still really cool when it’s coming from an insect’s butt, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, sure,” Erin laughs.

She can feel her eyes on her. She feels her stop walking, the soft tug of resistance on her hand. She turns. Erin leans in, kisses her nose. Jillian feels the sting of sunburn on her skin, but it doesn’t matter. She smiles, and they walk.

She wants this to last forever.

“Hey,” she says, turning to look at Erin as they walk. “You wanna come back to my lab and check out my neuro-nuclear space fission reactor?”

She watches Erin’s face. Watches for a sign of recognition. But it doesn’t come. She can tell that Erin doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Doesn’t remember. It’s no surprise, really. It was nearly an entire year ago. She’s glad that she’s forgotten.

“It’ll blow your mind,” she adds. Erin furrows her eyebrows and she looks confused, but then she shakes her head.

“That’s not even a real thing. You made that up,” she says. “That doesn’t even make any sense.”

And her heart soars. And she laughs. She stops. Kisses Erin hard. Quickly. Then pulls away.

“What are you even talking about?” Erin asks with a laugh, looking pleased but still utterly confused.

“Oh, nothing.”

She breaks away from Erin, too giddy to stay still, rushing ahead of her, into the fireflies.

*

Erin wakes up in the middle of the night and she remembers where's she's heard the phrase “neuro-nuclear space fission reactor” before.

It's been months since she was in Central Park with Jillian, since she brought it up again -- an off-hand remark that didn't make any sense to Erin at the time. She doesn't even know what made her think about it or why the realization happens in the middle of the night.

But she wakes up and she remembers.

She remembers and she almost cries right there in bed at three in the morning because she understands now.

She holds Jillian tighter, presses a kiss to the back of her neck, and falls back to sleep.

*

They've been engaged for nine days.

Engaged, engaged, engaged.

Jillian thinks that Erin’s left hand is too bare. There was no ring for the unplanned proposal and getting one hasn't exactly been a top priority, but every time she looks at Erin’s hand, she wants to adorn it. Wants to see physical proof that this is real.

“If I get an engagement ring, then you get one, too,” Erin insists.

“But I don't need one.”

“Well, neither do I.”

“But I want you to have one.”

“And I want you to have one.”

They're driving to Pennsylvania and Jillian keeps her free hand on Erin’s thigh with Erin’s hand lightly covering it.

“I mean, technically, I am the one who actually proposed , so I should be giving you a ring.”

“Ugh, Erin, that’s so heteronormative,” Jillian grimaces.

“What?! How is that heteronormative?” Erin laughs. “If anything, you’re the one being heteronormative.”

Jillian’s jaw drops open in an exaggerated display of shock.

“How dare you!”

“ Why do I get an engagement ring but you don’t?” she asks.

“Because! You...you’re…” she lifts her hand from Erin’s thigh to gesture with it.

“What?” Erin asks. “I’m...more girly?”

“No!” Jillian shakes her head, but doesn’t have a better response. “It's because you… you… Shit.”

“Uh-huh,” Erin says. She smiles. “I win. Either we both get one or neither of us gets one.”

“Fine,” Jillian sighs. “I’ll wear an engagement ring.”

Erin grins, beaming at her from where she sits, and she leans over the middle console of the car, pressing a kiss to Jillian’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

“You're lucky that I love you.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

*

Erin is sitting on the sofa in Jillian’s sister’s living room. The living room in the house that Jillian grew up in. She's sitting on the sofa and Jillian’s niece is sitting beside her with a large book in her lap. They've been playing the same game for the past thirty minutes. Lydia flips to a random page of the dictionary, picks a word at random, makes Erin define it. Erin alternates her answers -- either giving an accurate one or a completely made-up and silly one, causing Lydia to howl with laughter. Every so often, Jillian’s nephew, Charlie will chime in with a definition of a word -- also alternating between serious and silly.

Erin has never had any particularly fond feelings towards children, but it surprises her how attached she has become to these children.

She glances up, catches Jillian’s eye. Jillian lifts her brows in silent question. Erin nods.

“So…,” Jillian smiles. “Erin and I have something to tell you.”

“ Yes?” Karen asks, leaning forward in her chair, and it's obvious that she knows. She knows what’s coming.

Erin keeps her eyes locked on Jillian’s. Neither one of them can stop smiling.

“Um… Erin and I… are…”

“ Yes?” Karen urges her on.

“We’re getting married.”

Karen lets out a yell, clapping her hands together, bouncing in her seat.

“I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” she shouts, standing up suddenly and throwing herself onto Jillian in a hug.

Beside Erin, Lydia has thrown down the book from her lap and she jumps up, throwing her arms above her head and emits an excited shout that could rival one of Jillian’s. Charlie stays mostly calm compared to the others, but he grins from ear to ear.

“ Finally!” Lydia exclaims.

“I'm so happy for you guys!” Karen says, pulling herself off of Jillian and moving quickly towards Erin, wrapping her up in a hug. She can see Jillian being hugged by both Lydia and Charlie at the same time. They come to her next and she finds herself being hugged from all angles, and she can not stop smiling.

“So, who did the asking?” Lydia asks them.

“Yeah,” Karen agrees. “I want to know everything!”

“Well…,” Jillian begins.

“I did,” Erin smiles, her voice absolutely dripping with self-satisfaction.

“Well, I mean--” Jillian interjects, but she's interrupted by another shout of excitement from Lydia.

“Yes! I knew it!” she yells, turning to look at her brother, pointing at him. “You have to clean my room for a month!”

“Dangit, Aunt Jillian,” Charlie mutters, shaking his head. “I had a lot riding on this.”

“Wait,” Jillian says, looking between the two. “You did not have a bet on this! Did you?!”

“Yeah,” Charlie answers with a shrug. “And I lost. Because you didn't ask Erin to marry you. Thanks a lot.”

“Okay, okay, but technically--”

“Technically, I'm the one who asked. So Lydia wins. Fair and square,” Erin says with a smile.

“Right, but you wouldn't have asked if I hadn't brought it up in the first place.”

“But I'm still the one who asked.”

“Technically… yes. You are the one who asked .”

“Yes!” Lydia exclaims. “Yes, yes, yes! I love you, Aunt Erin!”

She hugs Erin again and Erin can only grin, returning the hug.

*

“The kids love her.”

Jillian stands in the doorway that separates the kitchen from the living room. Her sister stands beside her. A joyful tune emits from the piano in the corner of the living room. Lydia sits on one end of the piano bench while Erin sits on the other. Erin’s rusty piano skills from years of childhood lessons have become a lot less rusty ever since they started visiting Karen and the kids regularly.

“ I love her,” Karen continues.

Jillian smiles. She watches Erin and the way she laughs when she messes up a note. The way she allows Lydia to instruct her on how to play something. The way she smiles as they make their way through a song together. She's radiant.

“You love her.”

She nods, finally tearing her eyes away to look at her sister.

“More than I ever thought possible,” she admits.

“You know who else would’ve loved her?” Karen asks softly, a little sadly. Jillian nods again, smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, she would've,” she agrees.

Karen sighs and wraps an arm around Jillian’s shoulder. Jillian leans into her, rests her head on hers.

“So… how untraditional is this wedding gonna be?”

“To be determined,” Jillian laughs.

“What are you gonna wear? A suit? Obviously not a dress.”

“I don't know yet,” she answers. “I think I’ll figure that out when I get to it.”

“Will you have bridesmaids?”

“Mmhm,” she nods. “Well...one each. Abby is Erin’s maid of honour. Patty’s mine.”

“Oh,” Karen says, and she smiles, even though there’s a hint of disappointment in her voice that Jillian doesn’t fail to notice. “I mean, yeah, that-- that makes sense. I mean, they’re your best friends and-- and-- yeah.”

“Karen?”

“Yeah?”

“I was hoping that you would, um… I thought that maybe you could…,” she pauses, takes a breath, then continues. “I want you to give me away -- not that I’m a big fan of that terminology, but I can’t think of a better one, but you get the idea.”

Karen pulls away from her and looks straight at her, her eyes widened, mouth slightly opened.

“You do?”

Jillian nods.

“I mean, we haven’t really decided how it’s all gonna happen and stuff but… yeah. Erin has her dad, you know, but...you...you’re the only family I have.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I…,” she smiles, her eyes glistening. “I would be honoured to.”

*

They're at home when Erin curls up beside Jillian on the sofa and Jillian wraps an arm around her. Erin lets out a contented sigh, resting her head on Jillian’s shoulder as one of their cats hops up next to her, climbing into her lap, purring loudly and beginning to knead at her thigh.

“I have your engagement ring,” Jillian states.

“You do?”

“Yep.”

“I have yours, too.”

“Should we give them to each other?”

“Eventually, probably,” she nods. “But Sonia just got comfortable, so I can't really get up any time soon.”

Jillian gives Erin her ring first. She sinks to one knee in front of her and Erin laughs.

“Holtz, we already did this part,” she says. “Well, I did this part.”

“Can you please be quiet and just let me have this?” Jillian asks.

“Fine, fine.”

“Erin,” she says, smiling up and her and taking her hand into hers. She slips a ring onto her finger. “Will you marry me?”

She shrugs.

“I don't know. I mean, I'm not sure if I'm ready to be tied down right now,” she says, looking down at her left hand, her playful words dying on her tongue.

The ring is small and delicate, a thin gold band with a princess cut diamond in the center, three tiny round diamonds along the band on either side of it. It's beautiful. It's perfect.

“Holtz,” she mumbles.

“You like it?” she asks almost nervously.

“ Yes. I…”

“I know it's kind of small, but when I saw it, I just, it made me think of you. I don't know, it just felt right,” she rambles.

“Holtz,” she grins, tugging Jillian back up to her feet and pulling her close, her fingers grazing over her cheek. “It’s perfect.”

They’re both smiling as they kiss, just a quick press of lips, and as Jillian leans in for more, Erin pulls away, causes Jillian to let out a whine, a pout replacing her smile.

“I have to give you yours now,” she says.

So, she does. It’s simple. A silver band with a single tiny diamond set into it.

“I love it,” Jillian says in almost a whisper.

“Look on the inside,” Erin tells her. Jillian slips the band off of her finger and holds it up, letting the light hit the inside of it. The inscription is small but clear: to love is what you have shown me.

“Erin…,” Jillian looks up at her, her smile lighting up her whole face. Erin mimics it.

“Did I do good?” she asks.

“You did so fucking good,” she says, rushing forward, grabbing her face, practically slamming their lips together. “God, I love you.”

*

Erin sits at her desk. Jillian stands behind her, leaning down, one hand resting next to Erin’s elbow, holding herself up. They’re looking at something that Erin has been working on, discussing softly. Patty can’t hear the conversation from where she’s sitting, but she doesn’t really care much about it anyways.

Jillian pulls a face, emits a strange sort of squawking noise, and Erin laughs and shakes her head, picking up a pen and crossing something out in the notebook in front of her.

“Have y’all set a date yet?” Patty asks them from several feet away. They both stop mid-conversation and look up at her.

“What?”

“A date,” she says again, standing up, walking closer to them. “A wedding date? You’ve been engaged for like, two months now. You didn’t forget, did you?”

“I didn’t forget,” Jillian mumbles, looking down at Erin. “Did you forget?”

“Forget what?” she asks.

“That we’re engaged.”

Erin is silent. She blinks a few times. Keeps her face blank.

“We are?”

“Erin forgot,” Jillian tells Patty, then turns back to Erin. “Yeah, babe, remember? Couple months ago? I asked you to marry me?”

“ Oh,” she nods. “Yeah, yeah, it’s coming back to me. But...the way I remember it, I asked you.”

“Okay, great, you both remember,” Patty says. “So, when are you gonna set a date?”

“Hm…. Tomorrow,” Jillian says with a quick nod of her head.

“Wait, are we setting a date tomorrow, or are we getting married tomorrow?” Erin asks.

“Ooh, good question,” Jillian frowns. “Your call, babe.”

Erin scrunches her face up into an exaggerated expression of thinking, and then she sighs.

“I don’t know if I really feel like getting married tomorrow,” she says. “I didn’t plan on washing my hair tonight, but I always kind of imagined that I’d have clean hair at my wedding.”

“Fair enough,” Jillian nods.

“Y’all are fucking insufferable,” Patty huffs.

She holds them to it, though. Asks again the following day.

“Oh, I don't know,” Jillian sighs. “What do you think, Erin? Do you want a spring wedding?”

“Spring would be nice,” she nods. “But, ooh, what about summer?”

“Summer! I like summer!” Jillian agrees. “But we could also do fall.”

“Or winter!”

“Oh, yeah! Or-- no, that's it, that's all the seasons.”

“See, I knew y’all were gonna be like this,” Patty says. “So I came prepared.”

“You did?” Jillian gasps. Patty nods and then holds out the coffee mug in her hand, shaking it, the soft sound of paper jostling inside.

“Got twelve little bits of paper in here,” she explains. “One for each month. Let's start there, okay? Just pick a month.”

Jillian and Erin exchange a glance. Erin shrugs and then looks back at Patty and extends a hand. She reaches in and pulls out a tiny slip of paper, unfolds it and she and Jillian both look at it.

“October,” Erin reads aloud.

“Hm. October,” Jillian repeats, nodding.

“October,” Patty says. “Feel good about October?”

“ October!” Jillian exclaims, her eyes widening as she turns to Erin. “Erin. I just had the best idea.”

“What?” Erin asks, already sounding exasperated.

“October. Halloween. What if we got married on Halloween and--”

“We are not dressing up as Beetlejuice characters for our wedding, Holtz.”

“How did you know I was gonna say that?”

“Because you’ve said it before. And I’ve already said no to it before.”

“I have? When?”

“You woke me up in the middle of the night like, three weeks ago asking if I would rather we paint ourselves like corpses to be Barbara and Adam or if I’d rather wear red so we could be Lydia and Beetlejuice.”

“I don’t remember that at all, but it does sound like something I’d do.”

“Yeah, that’s because you did it.”

“So, it’s a no?”

“It’s a no,” Erin confirms, then she looks at Patty. “October is our busiest month, though. Will we really have time for a wedding that month?”

“We could do the beginning of October,” Jillian suggests. “Things don’t usually get too bad ‘til the middle of the month.”

“That’s true,” Patty agrees. “How about the first weekend of October?”

“I mean...yeah, that’s fine with me,” Erin nods.

“Fine with me, too.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Patty asks them.

“No, I guess not,” Jillian smiles, looking over at Erin. “We’re gonna get married in October. That’s...in five months.”

“We’re gonna get married in five months,” Erin grins.

“Aren’t you glad I asked you to marry me?”

“Yeah, except that I asked you ,” Erin says.

“Okay, but--”

“Are y’all gonna argue about this for the rest of your lives?” Patty asks them. They pause, look at each other, dreamy smiles spreading over both of their faces.

“Yeah,” Jillian nods. “Yeah, I think we are.”

*

“Should we have more friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“More friends. Should we have them?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know who we’re supposed to invite to our wedding. We have very few friends,” Erin sighs, her fingers hovering over the keys of her laptop.

“Alright. So, let’s go out and make some more so we can invite them,” Jillian smiles, falling down beside her on the couch, resting her chin on her shoulder.

“Too much effort,” Erin says.

“What about your family? Anyone else from the Gilbert clan other than your dad that you want to have there?”

“Eh,” she shrugs. “Some cousins, maybe? Possibly my mom’s sister?”

“So, not your homophobic and antisemitic Aunt Martha and Uncle Jim, then?”

“No, I think we can do without them.”

“Good call,” she nods.

“Look at this list, though. There are only like, ten people on it, and four of them are in the wedding.”

“So what?” Jillian asks, turning her head and pressing a kiss against her shoulder. “Wouldn’t matter to me if there were zero guests. I just wanna marry you.”

“I know,” she sighs. “It just seems like a lot of effort to go through to plan a wedding when hardly anybody will be there.”

“We’ll be there. That’s the important part. We’ll be there, and our best friends will be there and it’s going to be the best day ever.”

“You’re right,” she nods, turning to catch her lips with her own.

*

“I can’t believe how many people showed up!” Erin exclaims giddily, and Abby nods, agreeing, feeling awfully giddy herself.

“I thought they were crazy when they asked us to do a book signing!” she laughs. “I had no idea anyone would actually come!”

They’re leaving the Strand bookstore, the Saturday sun still bright overhead, hands sore, but unable to stop smiling. Their newest book isn’t out for another few days, but they managed to draw in quite a crowd for advance, signed copies. It was three hours of meeting fans and fellow researchers, receiving compliment after compliment, and despite the fact that for the most part, they tend to lay low in terms of public events, both of them had the best possible time.

“Oh, while we’re in the area, I wanted stop in at this record store that Holtz likes. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Abby says.

The record store is a couple blocks away and it has the pleasant smell of old vinyls. Erin flips through some of them, a look of concentration on her face, pulling a couple out and holding them under her arm.

“Holtz is going through a major Billie Holiday phase right now,” Erin informs her when Abby catches sight of the two Billie Holiday vinyls in her hand. Abby just nods. And she looks at her. Looks at the friend that she’s known since high school. She’s different. Different from when they were reunited after being apart for so many years. Different, even, from right after they saved the city.

She’s more relaxed than she ever used to be. More easygoing. She smiles a lot, finds the joy in small things, laughs often. She’s standing there in a record store, flipping through vinyls, wearing a plain, simple dress and flats, her hair pulled back, the ring gleaming on her left hand, and she’s smiling as she picks out records to bring home to her fiancée.

She’s different, but in the best possible way. She’s still the same person that Abby has always known. But it’s as if she’s become more comfortable in her own skin, unafraid to be herself at all times.

Erin buys the records she’s picked out and they’re walking back towards the train, passing several small shops on the way, and Abby sees the way that Erin’s eyes focus on something, and Abby turns, catches sight of a tiny bridal shop with a vintage-looking dress on display in the window. She smiles.

“You wanna go in?” she asks.

“Huh? Oh,” Erin shrugs. “No, no, that’s….”

“Come on, why not?!”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not really looking for a dress right now.”

“You’re not? What do you mean, you’re not looking for a dress right now? You’re engaged. Getting married. In less than five months.”

“I know,” she laughs. “I just...I don’t know.”

“We’re here,” Abby points on. “We can just go in and have a look around.”

“Okay,” Erin finally gives in. “Okay, we can look.”

The shop is small and mostly empty except for a saleswoman and two other customers. A quick glance around tells Abby that the dresses are mostly secondhand and vintage, with only a small section of new dresses made by local and independent businesses. She expects Erin to be turned off by the idea of a secondhand wedding dress, but when she looks for her, she’s already looking through a rack.

Abby looks through one, too, pulling one out that is clearly from the eighties with giant, puffed sleeves and a bodice that is so beaded that it weighs the entire top down, making it sag on the hanger.

“Hey, Erin, how about this one?” she calls out, and Erin turns, catching sight of it, and tilts her head back, laughing.

“Yes, perfect,” she nods. Abby puts it back on the rack, steps closer to where Erin is looking.

“You’d wear a dress that’s been worn before?” she asks her.

“Hmm,” Erin hums, then nods. “Yeah. I mean… if you think about it… all of these dresses were worn by women on what was hopefully one of the happiest days of their lives. Some of them may have been worn by multiple women on the happiest days of their lives. Isn’t that kind of special?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

Erin pauses, her hand on a hanger, staring down at a dress. Her mouth falls open just slightly, and she tilts her head to one side, and Abby shifts so that she can see what she’s looking at.

“Oh, wow,” she breathes.

“It’s…,” Erin begins, but immediately trails off. And then she frowns. “It’s not my size.”

She points to the very worn and faded tag in the back of the dress.

“It’s a ten,” she says, her disappointment clear in her voice.

“Vintage sizes are much different than modern sizes,” a voice interrupts behind them. They both turn to see the saleswoman -- an older lady with greying hair and cat-eye glasses perched on her nose. She smiles at them. “A ten in the fifties would be around a contemporary four. Or course, the best way to find out if it fits is to try it on.”

Abby looks at Erin and they both smile.

“Go on,” she encourages her. “Try it on.”

“Okay,” she nods. “Okay, I will.”

The fitting room is just a corner of the shop with a wall of curtains around it and Erin excitedly brings the dress into it with her, as well as a crinoline that the saleswoman suggests (“What is a crinoline?” Erin had asked. “Oh, it’s the thing that makes it all poof! right?” Abby added. “Oh! I like poof!” “Yes, it makes it poof!” the saleswoman laughed.)

When Erin steps out of the fitting room, Abby lets out an audible gasp.

“ Erin,” she says softly. And Erin just grins, glows, as she looks at herself in the mirror.

“It fits perfectly,” she says.

“You look beautiful,” the saleswoman tells her, and even though Abby knows that she’s just trying to make a sale, it sounds completely genuine. Because it’s true. Erin does look beautiful.

The dress has a wide neckline, displaying Erin’s prominent collarbones, edged in flowery white lace that continues onto the bodice and the modest, short sleeves. A wide, pleated satin cummerbund wraps around her midsection. The skirt is full, the same lace traveling halfway down until it becomes just crimped tulle that stops at her calves.

“Hold on, I need to send a picture to Patty,” Abby says, pulling out her cell phone. Erin laughs and moves her body back and forth, the skirt billowing out just slightly. Abby snaps a photo, sends it to Patty.

“I love it,” Erin says. “I know that this is literally the very first dress that I’ve tried on, but…”

“It’s perfect,” Abby supplies for her. “Absolutely perfect. I...I’m just imagining Holtz seeing you in this, and, and...oh my god.”

“Aw, is that your husband-to-be?” the saleswoman asks Erin.

“My wife,” she corrects absentmindedly, still staring at herself in the mirror. And then she giggles, bringing a hand to her mouth, giggling again. “Oh my god. That’s the first time I’ve actually said that out loud. My wife. I’m gonna have a wife.”

Abby’s phone vibrates in her hand. She looks down at it, at Patty’s reply.

Holy shit. I’m actually tearing up right now. Please tell me she’s buying that.

“You’re getting it, right?” Abby asks her. “That’s the dress, isn’t it?”

“I...I think so,” she nods. “I don’t even know how much it costs.”

“That one is a vintage William Cahill in excellent condition,” the saleswoman supplies. “I believe it’s five hundred and fifty dollars.”

Erin stops moving, her face falling.

“Oh,” she says. “That’s… and...and I would need the crino--the um, the poofy thing, too. Which is…?”

“Fifty.”

“So...okay, so...six hundred dollars,” she says softly, a little sadly. “That’s…. I mean, I understand why it-- I just… it’s a little more than-- and to only wear it once, I mean--”

“Erin,” Abby interrupts. “It’s your wedding dress. This is your wedding dress.”

“I know, I just--”

“Erin,” she says again, and she smiles. “Our book isn’t even out yet and it’s already doing really well. You can afford it. You deserve to have this dress.”

“You think so?”

“Yes,” she nods.

“Okay,” she nods slowly, a grin spreading over her face once more. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll get it.”

*

“What happens if you get bored of me?”

“Holtz, go back to sleep,” Erin grumbles, burying her face in the pillow. But Jillian frowns and nudges her again.

“Erin.”

“What?”

“What if you get bored of me?”

“Impossible,” Erin mumbles sleepily, not even opening her eyes. “You're the least boring person I know.”

“Yeah, you say that here, but what about ten years from now? Thirty years from now?”

“Well, by then, I'll be too old to find someone new, so I'll stay with you out of convenience.”

“That's not funny,” she says. Erin sighs, finally opening her eyes and shifting, lifting her head and propping it up on her elbow, looking at Jillian.

“What's going on in that brain of yours?” she asks, seeming to realize that this isn't just one of Jillian’s pointless, middle-of-the-night ramblings.

“It's just… I mean… you know that you're signing on to forever with me, right?”

“Yes, Holtz, that's kind of the point.”

“Yeah, but forever is a long time.”

“Forever can be as long as we want it to be,” she says.

“What?” Jillian asks, making a face, not understanding at all. “That doesn't make sense and it also doesn't make me feel any better.”

“I mean,” she sighs. “Yeah. You can think of it as forever. That's the big picture. But then you can think about it a little smaller than that. I'm signing onto forever with you. Yeah. I'm also signing onto every day with you.”

“I'm still not following,” she says. “Usually I'm the one saying nonsensical things, but this time, it's you.”

“You actually are saying nonsensical things by suggesting that I wouldn't want to spend every day with you.”

“But--”

“Holtz,” Erin interrupts. “ Jillian. I love you. I'm going to keep loving you. That isn't going to change. Please go back to sleep.”

“Fine,” she sighs, dropping her head back down onto her pillow. Erin does the same, her eyes immediately falling closed again. But Jillian’s eyes stay open and she watches Erin.

“Y’know, we haven't had sex in a while,” she says, breaking the silence. “It's been like, almost two weeks.”

“We've been busy,” Erin mumbles.

“I know. But we used to have sex all the time.”

“Is this about us not having sex?” Erin asks, her eyes opening again.

“No. It's not about that. But that's how it starts, right?”

“How what starts?”

“Couples getting bored with each other.”

“I don't know. Wouldn't know. Because I'm not getting bored with you.”

“Not yet, but--”

“Do you want to have sex right now?”

“What?” Jillian laughs. “It's the middle of the night.”

“Not like we've never done that before,” she smiles.

“Yeah, but that was… that was back…”

“Back when we couldn't keep our hands off each other for more than a few hours at a time?” Erin supplies, and Jillian nods, smiling at the memories.

“Exactly,” she nods.

“Back when we were still learning each other,” she says, rolling her body, shifting closer to Jillian, bringing a hand to her chest, slowly trailing a single finger down the center of it.

“Yeah,” Jillian breathes.

“That was fun. And new. And exciting,” she says, pressing a soft kiss to Jillian’s lips. “But now we know each other pretty well. And that's pretty fun and exciting, too.”

“It is?”

“Mmhm,” she nods. “For example, I know that when I do this --” she leans down to Jillian’s neck, kissing it, open-mouthed, swiping her tongue and lightly scraping her teeth over her skin, eliciting a long, low breath from Jillian, with a soft whine at the end “--that you'll make that noise. That incredibly--” she kisses her “-- sexy--” kisses her again “--noise.”

“ Uh-huh,” Jillian agrees with a soft laugh.

“And when I do this--” she swiftly rolls herself on top of her, straddling her waist and pulling her shirt up and over her head, tossing it onto the bed “--that you'll look at me like that.”

Jillian stares up at her, slightly breathless, trailing her hands over her thighs.

“You're not bored of seeing these yet, are you?” Erin asks, nodding down at her own chest. Jillian quickly shakes her head.

“ Never,” she breathes out, reaching up to touch her. Erin grins, leaning down to her and kissing her hard. Jillian can't help but laugh. “We’re gonna be so tired tomorrow.”

“I know,” Erin agrees. “It'll be totally worth it.”

*

“Dance with me.”

The soft sound of jazzy swing music emits from the speakers of the record player in the living room. It’s one of the Billie Holiday albums that Erin bought for Jillian. Jillian’s current favourite. She’s been playing it at least once every few days.

“Holtz, I’m tired,” she sighs. “How are you not tired? Today was exhausting.”

“I am tired,” Jillian says. “This song just makes me wanna dance with you.”

She holds out her hand, standing in front of her, and she gives in, letting herself be pulled to her feet. Jillian gives her very best attempt at swing dancing, despite not actually knowing how to swing dance, and Erin just follows along, allowing Jillian to spin her and move her around.

Life begins when you're in love. You have the whole world before you when you've found the one.

She laughs, holding onto her hands, and Jillian tries to dip her, but Erin stumbles backwards, and they’re both laughing as Jillian apologizes, helping to steady her on her feet again.

Life begins when Cupid wins and you're in love.

*

Erin is in a mood.

Jillian can tell because of the way her mouth looks. All thin and pressed tightly together. She doesn't say anything. But Jillian can tell that she's in a mood.

“You okay?” she asks her. Erin just shrugs. “What's going on?”

She sighs, taps her fingers against the kitchen counter in front of her and then rubs at her eyes.

“I talked to my dad today,” she says.

“Uh-huh,” Jillian nods, waiting for her to continue.

“He wanted to know when we were sending out invitations.”

“Mmhm.”

“He wanted to make sure that he would be able to have a plus-one. So that he could bring Tracie.”

“Tracie…,” Jillian repeats, trying to remember if she should know who Tracie is. “And Tracie is…?”

“His girlfriend.”

“Oh! Right. Tracie.”

“Can you believe that?!” she asks.

“Believe… believe what?”

“That he wants to bring his girlfriend to our wedding!”

“Oh…. Um…,” she mumbles, not entirely seeing the problem.

“I mean, it's weird enough that he even has a girlfriend, but he wants to bring her?! I've never even met this woman! And besides, the wedding is still months away! He thinks he's still gonna be with her and that he's going to bring her all the way here for our wedding?!”

“Erin, he's… I mean… He wants to bring her. Why shouldn't he?”

“Because!” she exclaims. “She-- he-- because--”

“It's not like we don't have the space,” Jillian points out. “You said yourself that we have very few people to invite.”

“Yeah, but her?!”

“You don't even know her.”

“ Exactly. I don't even know her. And he wants to bring her!”

“Well, he probably wants you to meet her.”

“Oh my god,” Erin says, suddenly glaring at her. “You're on his side, aren't you?”

“What?” she laughs. “I didn't realize that there were even any sides to be on.”

“You think it's okay for my dad to bring his new girlfriend to our wedding?”

“I think that… yeah. If he wants to bring her, he should bring her.”

“I can't believe you!”

“What is the big deal, Erin? I mean, I guess I understand that it might be kind of weird, but your dad has always been completely supportive of our relationship. Shouldn't you be of his?”

“You want me to be supportive of his relationship with another woman?!”

“Erin….”

“He's cheating on my mom!”

“Erin, baby,” Jillian says softly. “Your mom has been gone for three years now.”

“Yes, I know. I know that she's gone, but that doesn't mean that he can just bring some random woman to my fucking wedding!”

“Okay,” Jillian sighs, placing her hand on top of Erin’s. “Is this really about you not wanting Tracie to come or is it about you wishing that your mom was here? Because… I mean… I wish my mom was here. I wish that my mom could be at our wedding. And I wish that your mom could be at our wedding. And I know that it might feel like your dad is cheating on your mom by moving on, but--”

“Oh, do you?” Erin scoffs. “You know that it might feel like that? How would you know? How would you know what it feels like? You don't even have a dad.”

Jillian freezes, a little surprised, and she pulls her hand away from Erin’s. She knows that she doesn't mean to be hurtful, that she's just lashing out at her because she's there, but she can't help but feel a sting from her words and her tone.

“Okay. I know you’re upset. I know you didn't mean that the way it came out--”

“ Yes, I did,” she responds scathingly.

“I mean, yeah, you’re right,” she nods. “I don’t have a dad. Because my dad actually cheated on my mom and then left her to take care of a toddler and an infant by herself. But your dad… your dad fulfilled his vows to your mom. Mine didn’t even bother making any. So, you’re right. I don’t know how it feels to have one parent move on after the other is gone, but I know that your dad is a good guy and he isn’t doing this to try to hurt you.”

Erin’s features soften and she lets out a long sigh as she closes her eyes before bringing both hands up, digging the heels of her palms against her eyes, moving them in circles.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling her hands away. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Jillian says.

“It’s just so weird. The thought of my dad dating somebody. It’s weird.”

“I think it’s kind of nice that he’s found someone,” she shrugs. “I mean, when I die, I’d like to think that you’d--”

“I’m sorry, when you die?” Erin interrupts.

“Well, yes, it is sort of inevitable. And I’m obviously going to die before you--”

“ What?!” Erin asks, looking rather cross again. “Jillian, what the fuck? Why would you even say something like that?”

“I’m not saying that it’s gonna happen soon. But like, c’mon . I’m gonna go first. And when I do--”

“ Stop it. Stop saying that.”

“Okay, okay, if I do?” she tests, and Erin doesn’t object, but she doesn’t look any less displeased, either. “ If I die before you, I’d like to think that you would find somebody else to be with.”

Erin doesn’t say anything for a while. She just looks at Jillian, her eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, one side of her mouth turned up into an annoyed sort of grimace, and she shakes her head.

“I can’t believe you would say something like that,” she says, her voice low and disturbingly calm. “That is so fucked up.”

“How is that fucked up?” she asks with a laugh, but Erin shakes her head again and stands from where she’s been sitting, not even looking at Jillian again as she passes her, heading towards the bedroom.

“Erin. Erin,” Jillian calls out, but the bedroom door slams shut. She stares at the door, stares at the spot where Erin was just sitting, her mouth hanging open as she glances around, completely confused. “What’d I do?”

She looks down at the floor, spotting the three-legged black and white cat.

“Ruth, what did I do?” Jillian asks her.

Ruth doesn’t respond.

*

“What’s up with Erin?” Abby asks.

“ Pfft,” Jillian responds with a shrug. “I don't know. I didn't do anything.”

“I wasn't implying that you did something, but now I'm starting to think that you did something.”

Erin’s sour mood had lasted through the night. Even when Jillian went to bed, attempting to cuddle up close to her, Erin had just pushed herself away, to the very edge of her side of the bed, muttering “Absolutely not.”

“What did you do?” Patty asks.

“ Nothing! I did nothing!” she insists.

“So this is out of nowhere? You did not say or do anything that resulted in your girlfriend giving you the cold shoulder?”

“I mean-- it-- but I didn't-- I don't know what happened!”

“Okay. Come on. Spill,” Patty says.

“She was upset because her dad wants to bring his girlfriend to the wedding. I said that he should be able to. There was a little bit of arguing but then it started to seem fine and then she got all mad at me again out of nowhere!”

“Out of nowhere?” Abby repeats.

“I mean, I said that I was gonna die first,” she shrugs.

“You said… what?” Patty asks. “Why would you… how did that come up?”

“Well, I was trying to say that when I die -- before her, because, I mean, duh -- that I hoped that she would move on and find somebody else to be with,” she explains. “And then she got all huffy and stormed off.”

“That's all that happened?” Abby asks.

“ Yes,” she nods.

“Oh, baby,” Patty shakes her head. “I’d’ve stormed off, too.”

“ What?” Jillian asks.

“ Why?” Abby adds.

“Look, I know you were well-intentioned, but don't you see why that might upset her?”

“No,” she shakes her head.

“No,” Abby agrees. Patty sighs.

“Okay, first. Talking about dying before her? A little morbid, even for you. Erin doesn't want to think about that!”

“But it's probably true.”

“Yeah, it is probably true,” Abby nods.

“Doesn't matter! That's not something that most normal people really want to discuss on a whim. And then , saying that you don't care if she ends up with another person? Come on. You really don't understand why she got upset?”

“No.”

“You're not supposed to say that!”

“Why not?!”

“Because! That's your wife! You're supposed to hate the idea of her being with anybody but you for all eternity!”

“But I'm dead!” she argues.

“Yeah, she's dead!”

“Doesn't matter! When you say that, what Erin probably heard was that you don't mind sharing her with other people and also that if she dies first, you're immediately gonna jump into bed with other women.”

“ How would she possibly get that out of what I said?” she laughs. “And that's completely inaccurate, anyways. If Erin were to die first, I would immediately die right after her from a broken heart.”

“And you don't think that she would do the same for you?”

“Erin is much stronger than me,” she says. “Besides, I never said that she should start dating again the day after my funeral -- or, whatever kind of service you guys decide to have for me because I doubt there will be much or any body left to bury…”

“...The fuck is wrong with you?” Patty asks. “Lord help the woman who is choosing to marry you.”

“I just don't get why she would be mad that I wouldn't want her to be lonely or unhappy,” Jillian frowns.

“See, it doesn't sound so bad when you phrase it like that,” Patty says. “Just… please go apologize to your girl. Even if you don't get why she's mad. Just go apologize.”

Jillian sighs, dragging herself out of her chair and shuffling towards the stairs. She finds Erin easily. She stands beside her, and she knows that Erin knows she's there, but she doesn't acknowledge her at all.

“If I die before you, I expect a shrine. And for you to wear nothing but black for the rest of your life. And a daily crying session that lasts at least thirty minutes.”

Erin says nothing. Still doesn't look at her. But she shakes her head.

“There should be candles in the shrine,” she adds. “Preferably pine-scented, but that isn't required.”

“Holtz,” Erin says, finally turning to look at her.

“I didn't mean to make you upset,” Jillian says softly. “Either with the death-talk or saying that I'd want you to move on….”

“I know you didn't mean it,” she sighs.

“I say inappropriate things sometimes.”

“Yes. I know.”

“And the thought of you loving anybody else kills me . Which is why I would only ever be able to handle it after I'm already dead.  But I also hate the thought of you ever being unhappy.”

“Holtz, I don't even want to think about this, let alone discuss it.”

“I know. I'm sorry,” she says.

“I may have overreacted,” Erin admits.

“Well, you were already upset,” Jillian points out. “I think I may have just exacerbated it.”

“Yeah. You were right, though. About my dad. That he fulfilled his vows to my mom. And I should want him to be happy. Even if that means...Tracie. and bringing Tracie to the wedding.”

“So, you're okay with it?”

“I don't know if I'm okay with it, but I'm willing to try and be okay with it.”

“That's good,” she smiles.

“I guess so,” she says. “And Holtz? Please don't talk about dying. Ever.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

*

They're called to a bust in a building uptown. It's an easy one. Just a single pesky ghost who is more annoying than it is dangerous. They finish quickly.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the woman who called them breathes in relief. “We have a wedding here tonight and it kept ripping down the decorations.”

“You have weddings here?” Erin asks, glancing around the room, at the high ceilings and the large windows completely covering one wall. It's a beautiful space. Patty notices the way Erin looks at it.

“Oh, yes,” the woman nods. “We're a very sought-after wedding venue.”

“Y’know, these two are getting married,” Patty comments, nodding towards Erin and Jillian.

“Oh, you are?! Both of you?”

“To each other,” Jillian says, grinning over at Erin.

“Congratulations! Wow. A Ghostbuster wedding!”

“They haven't picked a venue yet, though,” Patty continues.

Twenty minutes and a lot of negotiating later, the woman is putting “Holtzmann-Gilbert Wedding” into the schedule for the seventh of October, completely free of charge in exchange for that day’s ghost removal and a promise of free future ghost removals if needed.

“Who’s the best maid of honor of all time ?!” Patty calls out as they're leaving the building.

“You are!” Jillian exclaims, pointing at her, practically jumping up and down.

“You really are!” Erin agrees.

“Wha-- hey,” Abby interjects. “I-- I'm a great maid of honor too, right?!”

“Oh, yeah, of course you are,” Erin says. “I mean, you didn't score us a free wedding venue, but yeah! You're great!”

“Yeah, but… but I convinced you to buy that great dress!”

“Yeah, I know!” Erin smiles, being tugged forward by Jillian as they skip along in front of them.

“She still had to pay full price for it, though, didn't she?” Patty asks, and Abby turns slowly, an expression of shock and slow realization on her face. Patty just smirks.

“Gettin’ married in a fancy place!” Jillian sings loudly to the tune of Rihanna’s We Found Love. Erin joins in. “Gettin’ married in a fan-cy place!”

“Oh. Oh, okay. So that's how it is?” Abby asks her. “Okay. Fine. It is on.”

“Oh, bitch,” Patty laughs. “It’s been on.”

*

“ I'd marry you anywhere, you know.”

Erin looks up from the book she's reading. Jillian is just out of the shower, one towel wrapped around her body, another in her hands as she works it through her wet hair. Her skin is pink from the hot water, a few droplets on her shoulders and running down her back from her hair.

“I mean, it's cool that we have a nice place to get married in, but I'd marry you anywhere.”

Erin marks her spot in her book, closing it and dropping it down beside her, onto the bed.

“Do you think it's too much?” Erin asks. “The venue? Because I'd marry you anywhere, too.”

“I think the venue is perfect,” she answers, placing the towel in her hands onto the dresser and shaking out her hair. She looks over at Erin with a smile. “I never really thought that I'd get married at all, let alone to somebody like you. I'd marry you anywhere. City Hall, Las Vegas, on a mountain, under a waterfall, at a landfill, in a public restroom, literally anywhere .”

“Yeah, let's get married in a public restroom,” Erin laughs.

“How about at a twenty-four hour rest stop off the highway in...Nebraska?”

“I think we can go dirtier than Nebraska.”

“Florida?”

“ Too dirty,” she cringes.

“Okay. How about Georgia?”

“Perfect. But only if it's between the hours of two and five in the morning.”

“ Obviously ,” Jillian agrees, and she sits down at the very edge of the bed, still in just a towel.

“If you think the venue is too much, we can--”

“No,” she shakes her head. “No. I love it. I… I can't believe that I get to marry you at all. I want… I want everything. I would take the absolute bare minimum to marry you, but this is… I want it all. The fancy venue, flowers, a cheesy first dance, a gigantic cake with the little people on top… All of those ridiculous and sort of tacky wedding things? I want that. Because I get to marry you and it kind of feels like a miracle and I want everything that I never even thought that I would ever have because… because we can.”

“Come here,” Erin says.

Jillian crawls towards her and as soon as she's close enough, Erin reaches out, tugs the corner of her towel that's tucked into the rest, and it falls open. She pulls it the rest of the way off of her. Her skin is warm, soft, still damp, and smelling subtlety of citrus.

“I want all that, too,” Erin whispers against her shoulder, slowly moving her lips towards her neck. “Because we can.”

*

“Erin. You'll never guess what I just did,” Abby shouts, bursting into the second floor of the firehouse.

“You're right. I'll never guess,” Erin agrees.

“I just managed to get you in for a consultation and taste-test at this really amazing wedding bakery. People usually have to book appointments months in advance, but I got you in today.”

“Oh, wow, really? What time?”

“In twenty minutes.”

“ Twenty minutes?! Abby, that's… that's very sudden.”

“Yes, I know, but this is like, it's a big deal! They've had a whole article written about them in The Knot!”

“What's The Knot?”

“A bridal magazine.”

“Oh.”

“Come on.”

“Well, I mean,” she says, glancing over at Jillian who is in the middle of building something, but looking up, paying attention to the exchange. “I really don't think she can leave that right now without risk of explosion, and shouldn't that be something we decide together?”

“Erin,” Jillian calls out to her. “My delectable noodle dish. Think about this. Me. Tasting cakes? My reviews will be as follows: yum, yummy , super-yum, and the occasional and unfortunately no-longer-said-out-of-complete-irony yumm-o.”

Erin regards her for a moment and then she nods.

“You're right.”

“I trust you to make this decision without me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Great. Let’s go.”

She grabs her by the hand, pulling her out of the firehouse. But as they pass Patty, Abby turns with a wide smile.

“Ha!” she says triumphantly. But Patty only shrugs, seemingly completely unbothered.

*

“Hey, babe?”

Erin is sitting on the couch in the living room, her computer in her lap, looking intensely at something from behind the glasses that she’s only just recently admitted to needing. Jillian thinks that she looks adorable in glasses. Tells her this every time she wears them -- usually only when she’s reading or using the computer.

“ Yeees ?” she drawls, sauntering over to the couch, handing Erin the glass of wine that she’s just poured, holding onto a second for herself. She sits beside her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before resting her head on it.

“Do you want a rabbi? At the wedding?”

“Oh, um,” she says, noticing that Erin is looking at a website about Jewish weddings. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“It says on here that some rabbis won't perform interfaith weddings, but we shouldn't have a problem finding one in Manhattan that would, right?”

“You wouldn't mind a rabbi doing our wedding?”

“Of course not,” she says. “I mean, you're Jewish and that's an important part of who you are.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me? Both of my parents were raised Catholic and they hated it and switched to Protestant and took me to church a couple Easters and that was it. It was never really a big part of my life. But you are a big part of my life and you're Jewish and…”

“I love you,” Jillian says, lifting her head from her shoulder and leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

“So, is that a yes? To the rabbi?” Erin asks. Jillian nods, unable to hold back her smile.

*

“Let's talk bachelorette parties.”

“Oh, we're doing those?” Erin asks, looking back and forth between Abby and Patty.

“ Yes, we're doing those,” Abby says. “And Erin, yours is gonna be so good. I'm gonna throw you the best goddamn bachelorette party you could ever imagine. You're gonna be like ‘wow! That was the best bachelorette party ever! I have the best maid of honor in the world!’”

“I believe it,” Jillian nods.

“You better not believe it,” Patty says. “Abby might throw Erin an alright party, but Holtzy, baby, it'll be nothing compared to yours.”

“Erin's will be better,” Abby mutters.

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

“So, when is this happening?” Erin asks.

“Well, that's what we need to talk about. Since you guys share a uh, well, a pretty small friend group, we'll need to do them on separate nights, obviously,” Abby explains.

“We were thinking one in two weeks and the other the weekend after that.”

“Okay,” they both nod.

“So, who wants to have theirs first?” Patty asks.

“Oh, that doesn't matter to me,” Jillian smiles. “Why don't you two decide?”

“Abby?” Patty looks at her. “You wanna make that decision? Would you rather throw your little party before or after mine?”

“Um. Um. Oh god. Before. No. No. After. Yeah. Yeah, I'll go second.”

“Yeah, that's a good choice for you,” she nods. “It'll give you a chance to see what you're up against.”

And with that, Patty leaves.

“So, what are we gonna do for the party?” Erin asks Abby.

“ I don't know!” she exclaims, sounding flustered and panicked. “Oh, god, I have no fucking clue!”

She practically runs out of the room, and Erin turns to look at Jillian, raising her eyebrows.

“Are they--?”

“Trying to out-maid-of-honor each other? Absolutely.”

“Should we let them do that?”

“Are you kidding? Erin, they've been treating us like queens. I'm not giving that up. Let them have their little friendly competition while we reap the benefits,” she grins, sitting up straight in her seat. “Hey, Paaatty ?!”

It only takes a few seconds before Patty appears.

“You know, I am just famished from all this wedding planning,” she says. “Do you think you could run out and maybe pick me up a sandwich or something?”

“You got it!” she yells, turning to leave again.

“Do you want me to give you money?” Jillian calls out.

“It's on me, baby!” Patty shouts back. Jillian turns to Erin once more with a very smug smile, gesturing to where Patty just stood.

“See?” she says. Erin laughs, opening her mouth to say something, but before she can, Abby bursts into the room.

“Erin!” she says. “Do you need anything?! Can I get you anything?!”

“Oh. Um…,” she hesitates, but sees Jillian out of the corner of her eye with her chin resting on her hand, her eyebrows raised. “I...I could use a coffee?”

“Coffee. Okay. Coffee!” Abby nods, beginning to turn.

“From Starbucks!” Erin adds. Abby pauses, but then nods again. “Oh. And a muffin, too?”

“Of course. Yeah. I'll go get that right now!”

“Thanks, Abby!”

When she leaves, Erin looks at Jillian again.

“Okay. Yeah. I could get used to this,” she laughs.

“We should be getting married all the time.”

*

She isn't really looking. Even though the wedding is less than two months away and she doesn't know what she's wearing for it, Jillian isn't really looking.

But she finds it.

It's a Wednesday and it's Family Day at the Salvation Army and everything is half priced and it's the best day to salvage for cheap parts in the electronics section and then sometimes she'll glance at the clothing racks for anything that catches her eye.

She isn't really looking.

But she finds it.

*

Erin can tell that something is bothering Jillian. Has been bothering her for a few days now. She's been very quiet, which happens sometimes and isn't entirely new, but it's combined with periods of spacing out, as well as the fact that Erin keeps finding her chewing on her left thumb nail-- a habit that only appears when something is bothering her.

“What’s going on?” she finally asks her. “Is everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it's fine.”

“Holtz.”

“It's nothing. Really,” she assures her. “Nothing is wrong. Promise.”

“Okay. Something’s on your mind, though,” she says. Jillian sighs.

“I've just… I've been thinking…”

“About?”

“Um…,” she hesitates, shrugging, not meeting Erin's eyes. “I think…. I think I want to go visit my mom. Um. Her grave. I haven't… I haven't been since...since we… I mean… it's been seven years. I've never been able to… but… I think… I think I want to?”

“Okay,” Erin says softly, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “If you want to, then you should.”

She does. They visit Karen the next weekend, leaving in the late afternoon, and Jillian drives towards the cemetery where her mother is buried.

Erin stays in the car. She offers to go with Jillian if she wants, but Jillian shakes her head, says that she needs to be alone. Erin gives her what she needs.

It's early September and it's already beginning to feel like fall. Erin stays in the car with the windows open, the breeze blowing through. They're parked close enough to Jillian’s mother’s grave that Jillian is still in sight, but far enough away that Erin can't make out much other than the shape of her in the distance.

Jillian isn't gone long. No more than twenty minutes. She doesn't say anything when she returns. She just opens the car door and sits in the driver's seat. Erin tries to read her expression but can't. She doesn't prod, though. Doesn't ask her if she's okay. She doubts that she is.

And Jillian just sits there for a minute, maybe two. Doesn't say anything. Doesn't start the car. Finally she turns, looks at Erin, her expression still unreadable.

“Do you want to drive?” she asks. She isn't really asking Erin if she wants to drive. She's asking Erin to please drive. Erin nods.

“Yeah,” she says.

They switch spots. Erin starts the car and they leave the cemetery. The sun is beginning to set. She keeps her eyes focused on the road in front of her, but from the corner of her eye, she sees the way that Jillian leans against the car door, slumped down, curling in on herself. She's silent. Erin is silent, too. It's just the sound of the car and the road and nothing else. Until there's a soft sniffle and Erin looks over, sees Jillian wiping at her nose, sees the steady stream of tears falling down her cheeks.

And she reaches for her. Doesn't say anything. Just reaches across, takes her hand in her own, squeezes it, and Jillian cries even harder. She uses her free hand to cover her face, slumping down even further into her seat, but she still holds on to Erin’s hand.

“Do you want me to stop?” Erin asks her. She shakes her head. But a few minutes later, when Erin passes an exit for a rest stop, she takes it. Jillian doesn't object.

She parks the car, undoes her seatbelt, and fully reaches over, pulling Jillian as close to her as she can manage in the front of the car.

Jillian cries and Erin lets her. Lets her bury her face against her chest, lets her hold on as tight as she wants, lets her cry for as long as she needs to. She's quiet, for the most part. Just a shaking body and an occasional sharp intake of breath. Every so often, she makes a sound, a soft sort of whine, a sniffle, a shuddering breath out.

Erin doesn't know how long they sit there. She loses track of time, holding her, softly stroking her hair, pressing feather-light kisses upon her tear-streaked cheeks.

“I'm sorry,” Jillian mumbles, her voice shaking and weak.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Erin tells her.

“I thought I would be okay,” she says. “I thought it had been long enough. I thought I would be okay.”

“It's okay,” she whispers. “You don't have to be okay.”

“It's been seven years. Why does it still hurt like this?”

“Because you lost the most important person in your life,” Erin says. “I don't think it's going to stop hurting after seven years. Maybe not even seven years from now. I don't know if it will ever stop hurting. I don't know if it's supposed to.”

“ I miss her.”

“I know you do. I know.”

“I just keep thinking about how badly I wish she could have met you. She would have loved you, you know. She would have loved you so much.”

“And I would've loved her,” she says. “I do. Even without meeting her. I love her because she gave me you.”

Jillian buries her face in the crook of Erin’s neck, gripping onto her arm and letting out a low, shaking breath. Erin can feel the hot, wet tears against her skin. She holds her. And they sit like that.  

Several minutes pass. Jillian’s body stops shaking. Her breathing seems almost normal again. She pulls herself away from Erin, wiping at her cheeks, her eyes, her nose.

“Hey,” Erin says. “How about a public bathroom in a rest stop off the highway in Pennsylvania?”

Jillian cracks a smile, lets out a soft laugh.

They drive home.

*

"You guys still haven't told me what I'll be doing."

"I'm sorry, what, Kevin?" Erin asks. She's upstairs today. Sitting just where Jillian can see her from where she works. They're both working on their own things and not really saying much to each other, but Jillian finds it nice to be able to look up and see her there.

"You haven't told me what I'll be doing yet," Kevin repeats. "In the wedding."

Jillian stops what she's doing. She puts her tools down and pulls off her gloves, tossing them onto the table and then walking around, standing beside Erin, looking at Kevin. Neither one of them say anything right away.

"You know, Patty and Abby get to be your maids of honour, so I was wondering what I was going to do since you haven't told me yet."

Jillian and Erin exchange a quick, uncomfortable glance. Jillian looks back at Kevin.

"Well, Kevin, buddy," she says. “You’re not--” she’s stopped by a sharp nudge from Erin. She looks at her. She shakes her head. Jillian narrows her eyes. Erin widens hers.

“Um,” Jillian begins again, not tearing her eyes away from Erin, her mind racing, trying to think of something . “Kevin. Kevin. You are….oh, what are you doing? You are...you’re doin’ something. I guess. You are, uh...carrying...the...cats?”

“I am?”

“He is?”

“Ruth and Sonia are going to be there?”

“Yeah, they are?” Erin asks.

“Yep!” Jillian nods. “I guess they are! And Kevin’s carrying them! Our cats are gonna be in our wedding!”

“Awesome!” he exclaims. “Wow! I can't wait!”

He leaves, and Erin immediately turns to her.

“He's carrying the cats?!”

Jillian throws her hands up in defeat.

“You put me on the spot! I couldn't think of anything else! And you weren't very much help! You could've thought of something!”

“You are much more creative than I am! I thought you'd come up with something... something!”

“Well, that's the best I could do.”

“Our cats are going to be in our wedding….”

“I mean, it'll be kind of nice, won't it? They should be there to see their mommies get married, don't you think?”

“Nice in theory, sure, but… how… how? You really think that they're going to allow Kevin to hold them through a wedding ceremony?”

“We can just give them some catnip before it starts,” Jillian suggests. “You know how they get when they're on the nip. They act really weird for like, twenty minutes, and then they get all lazy and lethargic for the next two hours.”

“That's true….”

“They're just like their mommy when she has catnip,” Jillian coos in a high-pitched voice, playfully tapping Erin's nose with her index finger.

“Stop,” Erin whines, swatting Jillian’s hand away, but she laughs.

*

It’s late. Well after midnight. Erin is sleeping. At least, she was sleeping. But now her phone is ringing. The first thing she does is look at the time. Two in the morning. And then she looks at her phone. It’s Jillian.

She doesn’t know exactly where she is right now, she just knows that she’s with Abby, Patty, and Karen for her bachelorette party. A small body in bed beside Erin stirs. Karen’s kids are staying with her for the night and Lydia is asleep next to her while Charlie sleeps on the couch. Erin answers the phone, speaking in a hushed voice.

“Holtz?”

“Erin! Baby! Erin! Hiiiii.”

“What… Holtz…”

“Erin, baby, I miss you so much,” she says very loudly, her words a little bit slurred, a lot of noise and commotion happening in the background.

“You are drunk,” she says.

“Yes,” she agrees.

“Do you know what time it is?” Erin asks her.

“Time for me to call you and tell you that I love you. And I miss you. And I wish you were here.”

“And where is ‘here’?”

“Atlantic City.”

“Oh, god,” she laughs.

“ Holtzy!” Erin hears Patty’s voice in the background. “What are you doing?! Are you on the phone?! You'd better not be on the phone! You'd better not be talking to Erin!”

“Oh no, they're onto me,” Jillian whispers. “They told me that I wasn't allowed to call you.”

“You probably should've listened to them.”

“But I needed to hear your voice,” she insists. “I missed it. I miss you.”

“You saw me less than twelve hours ago.”

“That's too long! I wish you were here!”

“You know you're not supposed to have your fiancée at your bachelorette party. It's against the rules of bachelorette parties,” Erin says, repeating what Patty had forcefully told them when Jillian first complained that she'd wanted them to be at each other's parties.

“Rules are stupid,” she scoffs. “Hey, y’know’wha?”

“What?” she laughs.

“I got hit on twice! Twice! Can you believe that?! It's been so long since anybody has hit on me!”

“I highly doubt that it's been that long since somebody has hit on you.”

“No, really! I mean, yeah, sure, sometimes girls look at me when I go places, but actually being hit on? It's been ages. And. And. Erin. Erin. Y’know what I said to them?”

“What did you say to them?”

“I was like hell no, bitch, I'm gettin’ married!” she yells into the phone. Erin cringes, pulling the phone away from her ear, her voice far too loud.

“...You didn't say that,” Erin says.

“You're right. I didn't say that,” Jillian sighs. “I would never use the word ‘bitch’ in a derogatory way while speaking to or about a woman.”

“I know.”

“I was actually very polite,” she tells her, her voice much more subdued. “Told them that I was flattered but that I was marrying the love of my life in three weeks and wasn't interested. And they were very respectful and apologized and left me alone.”

“Yeah, that sounds much more believable.”

“Hey, Erin?”

“Yes?”

“What are you wearing?”

“Holtz…,” she warns.

“Because whatever it is, it would look better...not on you.”

“So, like, on somebody else?”

“ Noo,” Jillian whines. “That's not what I meant. I know you know that's not what I meant. I mean naked. I like it when you're naked.”

“I don't really know where you're headed with this, but you should be aware that your niece is currently asleep right next to me, so you shouldn't say anything that could potentially scar her for life should she overhear.”

“Oh. Well, shit. That's a mood-killer.”

“Yep,” she laughs. “Babe, don't you think that you should maybe get back to your party?”

“But I'll miss you.”

“I know you will, but you'll see me tomorrow. And you'll probably be very hungover.”

“ Pfft. Jillian Holtzmann does not get hangovers.”

“I know for a fact that that is not true.”

“I was not hungover that one time!” she argues.

“Sure you weren't.”

“I wasn't!”

“Okay, fine, you weren't. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“I guess,” she sighs. “I love you. I love you so much. I can't wait to marry you. It's gonna be the best day of my whole entire life.”

“I love you, too,” she says. “Have fun. Don't do anything too reckless. I'll see you tomorrow.”

*

Jillian Holtzmann does get a hangover.

*

Erin's bachelorette party is significantly more subdued than Jillian’s. It makes sense because Erin is significantly more subdued. They stay in Manhattan and it’s very simple. A spa day. A nice dinner. A few cocktails.

“Yours was better,” Abby sighs in defeat.

“Aw, come on,” Patty says. “We planned parties for two very different people. And I got the easy one. Can you even imagine throwing Erin a party like the one I threw Holtzy?”

“She’d hate it.”

“She’d hate it. You did good with what you had to work with.”

*

The final weeks before the wedding seem to pass by in a blur as everyone takes care of last-minute details. Jillian and Erin apply for their marriage licence and suddenly everything is very, very real. They're doing this. They are really doing this.

Erin’s father and his girlfriend, Tracie, fly in two days before the wedding. They're staying in a hotel and Erin is so busy that she doesn't even get a chance to see them at all the day of their arrival.

They forego a traditional rehearsal dinner. They mostly forego the rehearsal, as well. The wedding party is small and they don't actually think there's much to actually rehearse -- everybody knows what they are supposed to do, and that seems good enough.

They have dinner at the firehouse the night before the wedding.

Dr. Gorin comes and Jillian greets her with a hug while Erin stands back at a distance. She's only met Jillian’s mentor a handful of times and she still finds her more than a little intimidating. But she smiles at Erin (and Erin thinks that it might be the first time she's actually seen her smile at something other than Jillian or a piece of machinery) and she greets her and congratulates her and it almost feels like approval.

Erin meets her father’s girlfriend. It feels strange because she’s only ever known him with her mother. It feels strange, but she puts on a smile and tries her hardest and it’s the best that she can do. Tracie is nice. She’s nice and her father seems happy, so she tries to be happy, too.

Karen is there with her kids. The weather is nice and the roof has tables and chairs and much more room than anywhere inside the firehouse, so that’s where they gather. There’s conversation and laughter and they eat, and when they’ve finished eating, they stay on the roof, even after the sun begins to set, the temperature falling with it.

“I have something that I want to give you guys,” Abby says, producing a small white box. She hands it towards Erin and Jillian, and Erin reaches for it, taking it from her. “I found someone who makes custom wedding cake toppers, so….”

Erin opens the box.

“Shut up!” Jillian exclaims excitedly, and Erin lets out a laugh as she pulls out the little plastic figurines and it’s them. It’s them. Cartoony and adorable and dressed in their Ghostbusters jumpsuits.

“These are,” Erin laughs, “the cutest things I have ever seen.”

“Damn,” Patty mutters. “That’s good.”

Erin sits close to Jillian, leaning against her, Jillian’s hand resting on her thigh. She watches the people around her. This family. Her family. And she can’t stop smiling. She’s happy. She’s so, so happy. She turns to look at Jillian. She’s smiling, too. Jillian meets her eyes.

Erin leans in towards her, kisses her, and she only means for it to last a few seconds, but Jillian’s lips keep her there, and she lets out a soft sigh, brings her hand to her cheek, keeps kissing her, loses all memory of where they are, who they're with until there's a loud cough and she pulls away from her.

“I think that might be our cue to leave,” her father says, and Erin laughs, burying her face in Jillian’s neck.

“Yeah, I'd say so,” Patty agrees. “We should probably all call it a night, guys. Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we'll be right down,” Jillian says.

The others leave. The heavy door to the roof closes, and Erin and Jillian are left alone on the roof. Jillian stands. She moves in front of Erin, holds out her hand to her.

“Dance with me,” she says. It's a rare moment when Erin doesn't need any extra persuading. She takes Jillian’s hand, allows her to pull her to her feet and then pull her close, their bodies pressed together. Jillian’s arms wrap around her waist and she moves them, just swaying slightly where they stand. There's no music, but there's a steady rhythm to their swaying and Erin knows that the music is in Jillian’s head.

She hums. It's soft. Slow. Familiar, even though Erin doesn't recognize what it is right away. And then she sings. It's barely a whisper in Erin's ear, but it's enough.

“Life begins when you're in love. You have the whole world before you when you've found the one.”

They stand in one place, just swaying slowly back and forth.

“Life begins when Cupid wins and you’re in love.”

The fall breeze blows over them. There are too many lights from the street for many stars to be visible above them aside from a few strong ones. It's still fairly early in the night, the noises from the street carrying their way up to the roof.

“You're marrying me tomorrow,” Jillian says softly. Erin feels the smile spread slowly over her face.

“Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I am.”

“You know, I knew that I wanted to marry you a long time ago,” she admits. Erin lifts her head, meets Jillian’s eyes.

“I know,” she says. They've never actually talked about this. The way that Erin sealed her own fate with words uttered long before she knew that she was in love with Jillian. Or how Erin finally understood the question that she didn't understand when Jillian asked it in the park. They've never actually talked about it. Never really had a reason to. And there's no need to talk about it now. Because they look at each other and they just know. They know, and they know that they both know. And they smile.

Jillian kisses her. Leans in close, brushes windblown hair from her face, keeps her hand on her cheek as she presses their lips together. And for a wild moment, Erin tries to understand how she got here. Here. This moment. How she went from where she was to where she is. How she never imagined in her wildest dreams that Jillian Holtzmann would be the person she would be marrying. Jillian. Wild and eccentric and reckless Jillian. Sweet and soft and gentle Jillian. She never imagined this, but now she can't imagine her life any other way.  

“We should go home,” Jillian whispers. Erin nods. They head back downstairs.

Abby and Patty are both waiting for them.

“Sorry, but we're going fully traditional,” Patty says. “You won't be spending the night together. The next time y'all see each other will be at the altar.”

“What?” Jillian laughs, looking back and forth between them.

“Yep. Erin, I’m coming home with you,” Abby says.

“And Holtzy, you’re coming with me.”

“But--” Jillian objects, looking longingly over at Erin.

“Yeah, okay,” Erin agrees, and she turns her head, meeting Jillian’s gaze. She shrugs. “Come on. It might be kind of fun, not seeing each other again until the actual wedding.”

“But…,” she pouts.

“Come on. I've already got everything you're gonna need for tomorrow.”

“How’d you get all that?”

“We both have keys to your apartment,” Abby reminds them both.

“Oh, yeah. That's right. You do.”

“Let's go,” Patty says.

“Okay, okay. Can I at least say goodbye to my betrothed first?”

“Okay, go ahead, but make it quick.”

Jillian turns to face Erin.

“Last goodnight kiss as girlfriends,” Erin smiles.

“Tomorrow we’ll be wives.”

She kisses her.

*

It's late and Erin is confused. She's confused because it's late and it's the night before her wedding -- no, it's the morning of her wedding -- and her phone is ringing. Her phone is ringing and it's Jillian and Erin doesn't understand why she would be calling in the early hours of the morning of their wedding, but she answers.

“Holtz, I swear to god if you are drunk-calling me before our wedding I will--”

“I'm not.”

Her voice is soft. She sounds worried. Erin sits up in bed.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“Um….”

“Holtz, what's going on?” Erin asks, suddenly concerned and even more confused than before.

“I'm…” Jillian begins, but then she's quiet again.

“Holtz, is something wrong?” Erin asks again.

“No. I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“There's something that I need to tell you,” Jillian finally spits out. “And I think I should tell you before you go through with marrying me because you might hate me.”

Erin's heart rate and her mind both race, and she's thinking of every horrible possible thing that Jillian might be about to tell her. Her first thought is infidelity and the very thought makes her feel ill, but it doesn't make sense. Because Jillian wouldn't…. Perhaps she killed someone. That makes more sense than cheating. At least, Erin thinks it does.

“...What?” she asks hesitantly, not sure she even wants to know, but needing to.

“Um….”

“ Holtz.”

“I'm the one who convinced Abby to sell the book and put it online.”

Erin doesn't say anything right away. There's a long stretch of silence over the phone while Erin waits for her to maybe continue or clarify something, because Erin is feeling incredibly underwhelmed by this particular revelation.

“What?” she finally says.

“The book. Your book. With Abby. The first one,” Jillian says. “You were mad at her for selling it without your permission. Because you didn't want your name attached to it. She originally felt the same way. She didn't think it was right to put it out there without your permission. But I persuaded her to.”

“O...kay…”

“Everything that she told me about you, everything that I knew, I knew that you wouldn't want it out. The book. I knew you wouldn't want her to be selling it. But I told her that she should. I convinced her that she didn't need your permission. So it's my fault that it ended up out there. I just thought that eventually you would find out and then you'd track Abby down. And, I don't know, you would find out and then come looking for her, and you two would have to talk. And I could meet you. Because I wanted to meet you. I was supposed to hate you -- and I did, I hated what you did -- but I wanted to meet you. Because I thought you were… I… I wanted to meet you.”

“You… you persuaded Abby to put the book online without my permission because… because you wanted to meet me?”

“Yes. And to make you and Abby talk. I’m sorry.”

“Holtz…,” Erin says slowly. “If you had told me this like, the day we met, yeah, I probably would have hated you. I mean, if we’re confessing things, I didn’t like you very much at all that first day--”

“I did come on a little strong, didn’t I?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Erin agrees. “But that was...what, almost five years ago now? How could you possibly think that I would hate you for that?”

“Because it was my fault. And everything that happened after that was also my fault.”

“And where would I be if none of that had happened?” Erin asks.

“I dunno.”

“Maybe I’d still be at Columbia. Maybe I’d have gotten tenure. Maybe some of my colleagues might actually respect me -- some, definitely not all. Maybe I’d be dating somebody. Probably a guy. Probably boring. Maybe I’d have a few acquaintances here and there. Maybe I would do a really good job of convincing myself that I was happy in whatever conventional life I’d be living. Maybe it would be fine. But...I like this life a lot better. I like everything that happened because of that book. I like that I have my best friend back. I like that I made two more best friends. I like that I met you.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“No, Holtz. I’m not mad. I’m more mad that you woke me up for this.”

“Sorry,” she laughs softly on the other end. “It felt really important to tell you, though.”

“I’m sure it did.”

“You’ve signed up for a lifetime of this.”

“I know,” she smiles.

“When did you stop disliking me?”

“Hm?”

“You said you didn’t like me when we first met. When did that stop?”

“Oh, it never stopped,” Erin says. “I still can’t stand you.”

“I knew it.”

“Can I please go back to sleep now? I have to go to a wedding tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s funny. I’m going to a wedding, too.”

“Hm, maybe it’s the same wedding.”

“Maybe it is.”

“Maybe we’ll run into each other.”

“Maybe we will,” Jillian says. “Goodnight, Erin.”

“Goodnight, Holtz.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

*

“Can not believe I have to-- this is just-- oh my god-- never, ever, ever again,” Abby grumbles as she pushes a door open with her shoulder, struggling with the two heavy objects in her hands, and Jillian and Patty both turn to look at her.

“Whoa,” Patty says.

“Who the fuck decides to put their cats in their goddamn wedding?!” Abby asks angrily, finally dropping the two cat carriers on the floor.

“Abby, are you crying?” Jillian asks.

“No! I’m not crying! I’m allergic to your fucking cats!” she yells, and then holds out her arm, several red scratches across it. “And look at what one of them did to me! Trying to get it in its fucking carrier to come here!”

“Ooh,” Jillian grimaces. “It was Sonia, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“You’re the ones who made me go with Patty last night,” she shrugs. “You wouldn’t have had to deal with them at all if I’d been there.”

“Well, they’re here now because I needed them out of that room,” she says with a great sniffle.

“Hi, baby girls!” Jillian coos, swooping down in front of the carriers.

“Cats. In the wedding,” Abby scoffs, and beside her, Patty laughs, shaking her head and shrugging. Abby looks at Jillian, crouched down on the floor in front of the two cats, talking to them in a high-pitched voice. She’s just wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, her hair down and falling over her shoulders. The venue has rooms for them to get ready in, so that’s what they’ve decided to do. She sees Jillian’s outfit hanging up next to Patty’s dress -- the same colour as her dress, but a different style. There’s some makeup and a curling iron and a box of bobby pins sitting out in front of a mirror.

“Your bride doin’ alright?” Abby asks Patty.

“My bride’s doin’ great. How’s your bride?”

“My bride is just fine. I should get back to her, though. And away from these damn cats.”

*

Karen knocks softly on the door in front of her.

“Yeah?” calls out from inside.

“Hey, Erin,” she says to the closed door. “It’s Karen. And Lydia. Lydia wanted to come see you, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Come in.”

She opens the door. Her daughter lets out a gasp and runs forward, ahead of her. Erin smiles. She’s sitting, wearing her wedding dress, her hair twisted up into an elegant updo.

“You look so pretty!” Lydia exclaims.

“And so do you!” Erin laughs. “Quite possibly the prettiest flower girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Aunt Jillian isn’t wearing a dress. She’s wearing--”

“Shhh,” Erin interrupts, putting a finger to her lips. “I don’t know what she’s wearing yet and I don’t want to find out until I see her.”

“You don’t?!”

“Nope,” she shakes her head.

“Well...she looks really pretty, too,” Lydia confirms. Erin smiles.

“Where’s Abby?” Karen asks.

“Oh, she went to um…,” Erin says, gesturing around, and then she shrugs. Her smile falters. She glances down. Something seems off, but Karen isn’t entirely sure what it is.

“Hey, Lydia, I know you want to hang out with Aunt Erin, but why don’t you go find Charlie? I think he’s still with Aunt Jillian.”

“Aww, but--” she begins to argue, but Karen shakes her head.

“ Fine,” she pouts, trudging towards the door.

“Everything okay?” Karen asks once Lydia has left.

“Everything is-- yeah. Yeah. Of course. Everything...totally fine,” Erin says, but her words are rushed, a little too enthusiastic, and she keeps her eyes down.

“Erin….”

“It’s stupid,” she sighs. “It’s so stupid.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on,” she says. Karen grabs a chair, pulls it up close to Erin’s, sitting down in front of her. “I love her. I love her so much. And I know that I want to marry her.”

“Okay… so what has you freaking out?” she asks gently.

“I don’t know,” she says again, and she squeezes her eyes shut and Karen can see the way a few tears linger in the corners. “What if… what if everything changes?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… everything is so good. What if we get married and it all changes?”

“Well, why would that happen?”

She shrugs, sniffles, opens her eyes again.

“I know this is stupid,” she says. “I just started thinking about how happy I’ve been the past few years and then it turned into me wondering how I could possibly stay this happy, and what if she gets bored of me? She kept asking me about what if I got bored of her, but what if she’s the one who gets bored of me? What if that happens? Or what if, I don’t know, I just...we’ve been so happy. Everything has been so good. And now we’re doing this huge, supposedly life-changing thing, and what if it all changes after that? We have such a good thing and I just… I… I don’t know. I’m….”

“Scared of the unknown?” Karen suggests. Erin sniffles again, considers it, and slowly nods.

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess that’s what it is.”

“Okay,” she nods. “Well, I’ve never been married, so I can’t say for certain what happens after it’s all said and done, but it sounds to me like there’s a lot of what-if’s going through your head. And that’s scaring you. So, instead of thinking about the what-if’s, why not think about the things that you do know?”

“Like what?”

“Well… I’ll tell you what I know,” Karen says. “I know that my sister loves you. A lot. I know that I’ve never seen her as happy as she has been these past few years. I know that she practically worships the ground that you walk on. I see the way she looks at you, Erin. And I see how you look at her. And I know that my sister is loyal and that she’s persistent and she doesn’t give up on anything or anyone, and that it took a really long time for her to find her people and that her people are the most important people in the world to her -- and that includes you. Things might not always be easy but I know that you and Jillian make a great team and that Jillian will always be there for you. Because that’s who she is and she loves you.”

Erin smiles. She smiles and she nods.

“I also know that Jillian is going to lose her mind when she sees you in this dress.”

She lets out a soft laugh and then wipes at her eyes gently with just the very tip of one finger.

“I probably messed up my makeup,” she frowns.

“It’s a little smudged,” Karen confirms. “Nothing we can’t fix.”

She stands up, reaches for a tissue and steps closer towards Erin, bringing a hand towards her face and delicately lifting her chin, carefully dabbing and the smudged makeup beneath her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Erin says, allowing Karen to fix her makeup for her. “You must think I’m completely ridiculous.”

“Not even a little bit,” she assures her. “What I think is that you're the kind of person who sees marriage as a big deal and that you're not taking this decision lightly. And, speaking as the sister of the woman that you're about to marry, not only do I respect that, but I like it. Because I love Jillian. And I know that you do, too.”

“I do,” Erin says.

“I think that's what you're supposed to say later,” Karen says, setting the tissue in her hand down and reaching for the eyeliner atop the counter. Erin laughs.

“Yeah,” she nods. “Yeah, you're right.”

“You okay now?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Ready to marry Jillian?”

“Yes.”

*

Jillian is staring at herself in the mirror. She's been standing there like that for a few minutes now. She hasn't moved. Patty watches her.

“You look good, baby,” she tells her.

It's true. She does. She looks impeccable. Her hair is styled in her usual updo, but the most perfected version of it, curls falling just right, not a single stray hair out of place. Her makeup is natural and just right, lips just slightly more pink than their usual, lipstick-free shade.

She's dressed in white, the fitted jumpsuit narrow at her waist, pant legs wide, lace sleeves down to her wrists. Patty is sure that on anybody else, the very seventies-looking jumpsuit might look strange, but then, Jillian has always had a knack for pulling off outfits that others certainly couldn't. And it works. It works for her. It's fitting for her. It's the exact type of garment that she should be married in.

Jillian smiles and she turns around, looks at Patty.

“ You look good,” she says. “That dress. Patty… have I ever told you how stunning you are? Have I ever told you that you have great boobs? Because your boobs are great. And they look extra great in that dress.”

“I think you've always been a little too busy ogling Erin’s boobs to pay much attention to mine,” she scoffs.

“ Not true. Just because Erin's boobs are my favourite boobs does not mean that I haven't appreciated yours.”

“You have nice boobs, too,” Patty laughs.

“Thank you!” Jillian grins, reaching up to cup her own breasts and turning back to look into the mirror again.

There's a knock on the door, and then Karen pokes her head into the room.

“Hey, guys. Are you ready? It's almost time…”

“I'm ready,” Patty nods. “Holtzy? You ready?”

But Jillian doesn't answer. She stands there silently, looking at herself in the mirror.

“Holtzy?” Patty says again. Jillian lets out a soft grunt in response.

“Jillian?” Karen asks. “You okay?”

“I'm marrying Erin,” she mumbles so quietly that it's barely audible.

“Yeah,” Patty nods. “Yeah, you are.”

“I'm marrying Erin,” she repeats, slightly louder this time, sounding more than a little stunned. And then she laughs. She laughs and she turns away from the mirror. “I'm marrying Erin.”

“You ready to go marry her?” Patty asks.

“Yeah. I'm ready to marry her.”

*

It feels like she’s a spectator, floating above, watching somebody else’s life. Because this life -- this life where her sister walks her down an aisle, this life where her closest friends, her family surround her, this life where Erin walks towards her wearing that dress and looking at her like that -- this life is just too good.

And she almost can’t breathe when she sees her. Most of her body goes numb. She can’t feel her fingertips. It’s as if the rest of her senses are dimmed because the sight in front of her is too much. It’s too much and it’s the only thing in the world that matters. She could just stand here and look at her for all eternity and she would be perfectly happy.

Because it’s Erin. It’s Erin. And she’s in a dress. A white dress. A beautiful white dress. And she has flowers. And she’s smiling. And her father stands beside her, walks beside her, absolutely beaming. And Erin. Erin. Erin. She’s walking towards her and it’s the most beautiful sight that Jillian has ever seen.

And it feels miraculous, in a way. There’s a part of her that is sure that this must be some mistake. That this was never supposed to happen. Not to her. And none of it makes any sense, except it makes perfect sense, it makes more sense than anything else in the entire world, and yet, she doesn’t understand it at all because this is Erin. Erin. She’s marrying Erin.

And she’s in front of her, and her fingertips aren’t numb anymore because Erin takes her hand in her own, and she feels. And she stares at her, could stare at her forever, and she’s smiling, they’re both smiling, can’t stop smiling. This is real. Somehow. Somehow, this is the life that they are both living. Together.

She feels like she should say something. Say something to Erin because they're here, they're here, and it's miraculous and monumental and they're just looking at each other and smiling and Jillian feels like she should say something.

“Come here often?” is what comes out. And Erin laughs. She laughs and she holds her hand tighter.

“We are gathered to celebrate the union of Erin and Jillian. You have come here to share in this formal commitment they make to one another, to offer your love and support to them, and to allow Erin and Jillian to begin their married life together surrounded by the people dearest and most important to them.”

She hears the words that the rabbi speaks, but she can’t stop looking at Erin. Can’t focus on anything else. The rabbi says other things, she says a lot of things, Jillian can hear her speaking, only really hears a few of the words. She wants to listen. She wants to take in every single detail about this moment. But she’s taking in every single detail about Erin in this moment, and it’s entirely consumed her.

“Erin and Jillian have both prepared a few words for each other, which they can share now.”

She’s caught off-guard, doesn’t know how they got to this part so quickly, didn’t realize that it was happening so soon. But she takes a breath. She’d agreed in advance to go first. She has a piece of paper with words written on it stuffed into her bra. But she doesn’t need it. She’s ready.

“Before I met you, there were a lot of things that I wasn't sure about,” she begins, and she's mumbling, she knows that she's mumbling, hears herself, wants to speak more clearly, but doesn't know how. But Erin squeezes her hand, a gesture of encouragement, and she takes another breath, consciously tries to slow her words, to enunciate, and continues.

“I wasn't sure how much I really believed in ghosts. I wasn't sure of the appropriate amount of laundry detergent to use per load. I wasn't sure that I would ever meet somebody like you. I wasn’t sure if it was possible that anybody would ever really love me. And I had started to be okay with that. I was content with it. And then you walked in. And…. And you changed...everything. You walked in and we saw a ghost and you came back and you stayed and I was in love with you and I never, ever thought it was possible that you would love me back. But somehow… somehow, we're standing here and you're marrying me, and I never thought that anybody could ever love me the way that you do. Because I'm weird. And different. And most people don't really get me. But you do. And you've shown me that it's possible to be loved. To be loved without having to change who I am. But even more importantly, you've proven to me just how deeply I can love. I love you. I love you more than I thought I could love anybody. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love. Every time I look at you, it's like I'm looking at you for the first time all over again. When you walked in and I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life. And that I get to call you my wife is a privilege that I will never take for granted for as long as I live.”

Erin is smiling. She’s smiling and looking at Jillian with glistening eyes, still holding onto her hand. It’s her turn now. She keeps smiling as she begins to speak.

“I fell in love with you in bits and pieces,” she begins softly, looking straight at her, speaking directly to her, only to her. “By the time I realized what had happened, it was too late for me to turn back. But luckily for me, I would never want to turn back. I never knew that it could be like this. I never knew that you could be with somebody and know that you are exactly where you're supposed to be. With exactly who you're supposed to be with. That you are exactly who you're supposed to be. That's how I feel when I'm with you. Like every mistake and wrong turn and broken heart was just leading me towards finding you and being with you. Falling in love with you was the best surprise that has ever happened to me. I feel like I am the best possible version of myself when I’m with you. You make me want to be the best possible version of myself. I’m who I’m supposed to be. Where I’m supposed to be. With the person I’m supposed to be with. I never knew that it could be like this. But now I get to spend the rest of my life knowing that it can. I get to spend the rest of my life with the person who showed me that it can. I love you. And I can’t wait to spend every day with you.”

*

When they kiss, it feels like the very first time all over again. Time-stopping. Earth-shattering. Life-changing.

“By the power vested in me by the great State of New York, it is my privilege and pleasure to pronounce you wives.”

They move at the same time, Erin’s hands coming to Jillian’s face, Jillian’s hands resting at Erin’s sides, and they kiss. They kiss, and they smile, and it makes the kissing more difficult, with all of the smiling, and Erin laughs, she laughs into the kiss, and Jillian laughs, too, but she kisses her again, and again, and again, pulls her closer to her, wraps her arms around her completely.

“We’re married,” Erin mumbles against Jillian’s lips, and Jillian laughs again. She laughs and she nods and she kisses her, kisses her, kisses her.

They’re married.

*

It’s all sort of a blur. They’re married. They’re married. They barely break away from each other at all. It’s as if they can’t bear to not be touching. Because they’re married. It’s official and they did it and it’s real.

Abby stands, champagne glass in hand.

“I’d like to make a toast,” she announces to the modestly-sized group of guests. She looks towards Erin and Jillian.

“It’s a pretty remarkable thing to watch two people fall in love. It’s even more remarkable when those two people are your best friends. People you’ve known for years -- since high school, even. People that you’ve seen go through shit and grow . People that you would go to the ends of the earth for. People who have gone to the ends of the earth for you. I have known Erin and Holtz both separately and as a couple. They bring out the best in each other. They complement one another. They fit in a way that only two people who are absolutely meant to be together do.

We created our own little family when we formed the Ghostbusters. I don’t think we knew that that was what we were doing it when we did it, but it’s what we did. We created our own little family, as outcasts often do. And that family quickly became one of the most important and special things in my life. When Erin and Holtz first started seeing each other -- secretly, I might add -- not that they were very good at keeping it a secret -- I’ll admit that I was worried. Worried about what it would mean for our little family. But I realize now that I never had any reason to worry at all. The closer they became, the more in tune they were with one another. On the job, they became a force to be reckoned with -- more so than they both already were. And It didn’t take me long to understand that this wasn’t something that was going to go wrong. You look at them together and you just know . You see the way they look at each other, the way they understand each other, and support one another in every possible way. I won’t go so far as to say that they are two halves of a whole, because I think that they are each completely whole all on their own, but I do think that by being together, they have found the very best parts of themselves and the very best parts of each other.

And to have played a small role in it, to have been the link that led them towards first meeting, to have been able to witness my two best friends fall so deeply in love with each other… I consider it to be one of the greatest honours of my life. I love you guys.”

She raises her glass. Jillian is wiping at her eyes and Erin is smiling, looking at Abby with the most fondness in the world. They drink.

“Dammit,” Patty grumbles. “That was so good.”

When she stands a short amount of time later, she lets out a soft sigh, shakes her head a bit.

“Not sure how I’m supposed to follow that,” she says.”But I’ll give it a shot.”

She looks at Erin and Jillian. Smiles at them.

“So, I never told y’all this… never told anybody this… but… here's the thing. Remember when I said that I had figured out that y'all were together on my own? Yeah, see… I lied. Because what actually happened was… one night, Holtzy left work before me, which was already pretty weird because I swear, that girl never used to leave work. Anyways, she must have left in such a rush that she forgot her phone. And I...found her phone. And... may have...read some texts. And I know, I know, this story doesn't make me look very good, but I'm actually telling this as a cautionary tale because, believe me, that is not the way you want to find out that your two close friends -- your two colleagues -- are having... relations with one another. And naturally, I was shocked. Because how else was I supposed to feel? Of course, once I got over my initial surprise, I realized just how much it made sense, even if, on the surface, it doesn’t seem like it should. Like Abby said, they complement each other, even each other out. I knew early on that these two were the real deal. That this was it for them. That they were some of the lucky ones who managed to find what so few people ever actually do. And I’m so glad to have been here to witness them make ‘forever’ official. I love you both and I’m so happy for you and I’m sorry for snooping through your phone. I learned my lesson, and I have never and will never do it again.”

*

“Dance with me.”

She doesn’t need to ask. They’re already on the dancefloor.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” Erin jokes. Jillian laughs, but only pulls her closer.

They say that we might all be made of starlight.

Baby, when I’m with you, I know it’s true.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten a chance to tell you how beautiful you look.”

“So do you.”

When you say my name my heart grows strong

Maybe forever has been here all along

“I’m happy.”

“Me too.”

“I didn’t think I could ever be this happy.”

“We’ll be this happy forever, won’t we?”

“I think so.”

I can’t promise you the moon, I can’t even promise that I will be home soon

But you’ll leave the light on like you do

‘Cause you know I’m always coming home to you

“Remember the day we saw a ghost for the first time?”

“Of course I do.”

“This day is so much better than that day.”

When the sun comes back from where it’s been

I’ll be choosing you again.

*

There’s a lot of champagne. There’s a lot of it and everybody keeps drinking it because it’s there, and the music plays, and the dancefloor is full of slightly tipsy people. Abby is dancing with Patty because, after all, it’s tradition for the maid of honour to dance with the best man, so it only makes sense that the two maids of honour dance with each other.

But they break apart from one another, swooping in between the newlyweds, and Erin giggles as she grasps onto Abby’s shoulders, allowing herself to be torn away from Jillian. She grips her hands, dancing with her to the upbeat song playing, and she’s grinning, and Abby doesn’t think she’s ever seen her smile so much.

“Hey-- no, come on, man,” Patty shouts from where she’s dancing with Jillian. They both look over at the same time, sees them in a struggle, fighting between who gets to lead, and they keep switching the positioning of their hands. Their height difference only adds to the ridiculousness of it all.

“Just let me lead,” Jillian argues.

“That’s your wife,” Abby comments.

“Yeah,” Erin laughs. “It is.”

“What are you-- hey!” Patty yells. “Erin! Your wife is trying to cop a feel over here!”

“Yeah, she does that,” she nods.

“Nope. I can’t do this. Abby, switch with me. I want to dance with this one instead.”

They shift around, swapping dance partners, and soon, Abby finds herself with Jillian draped over her in something like a hug as they move along to the music.

“How much champagne have you had?” she asks.

“A bit,” Jillian answers. “Abby. Sweet, sweet Abby. Where would I be without you?”

“Where would I be without you?” she returns.

“No, I really mean it,” Jillian says, suddenly very serious, and she pulls away, looks Abby right in the eye. “I don’t know where I would be without you.”

“You’re drunk and getting emotional on me, aren’t you?” Abby asks.

“I’m only tipsy,” she smiles. “But it’s very important to me that you know how much I appreciate you.”

“Holtz, I know,” she laughs softly. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

“You’re the first person who ever understood me -- the first person to ever really try to understand me. You’re special that way. You give people chances. You don’t judge. You accept people. You were worth the wait. I’m so glad that you were my first friend. My best friend.”

“Jesus, Holtzmann, are you trying to make me cry?!”

“Hey, you made me cry earlier, so it’s only fair.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“You know,” Jillian says softly, draping herself over Abby again, lowering her voice and speaking close to her ear. “I tell Erin that she’s the best thing that ever happened to me, but I actually think that you are. Don’t tell her that I told you that.”

Abby laughs.

“You know, I actually think that she’d understand.”

“Oh, right, because you’re the best thing that ever happened to her, too,” she nods.

“What? No! That’s not what I mean!”

“But it’s true! You took a couple of friendless weirdos and gave them one of the most special things in the whole world. I don’t think either one of us would be who we are if it wasn’t for your friendship.”

“Well, I don’t think I’d be who I am without your friendships, either,” she admits.

“I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too.”

*

Jillian is dancing with her sister. Erin is dancing with her father.

The dancing has been going on for a while now. But they just keep going.

Jillian spins Karen and they both laugh.

“Ladies,” a voice beside them says, and they turn, finding that Erin and her father have gravitated towards them. “Mind if I cut in and have a quick dance with my new daughter-in-law?”

“Oh,” Jillian says, taken slightly by surprise, but she grins and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

Erin looks surprised, too, but pleased as she and her father break away.

“I get to lead, though,” Jillian says.

“Sure,” he laughs. Jillian places a hand on his hip while his hand comes to rest on her shoulder. They dance.

“I haven’t been able to thank you for what you did a few months ago,” he says.

“Thank me for what?”

“I know you talked to Erin when she was upset about my wanting to bring Tracie.”

“Oh, that,” she shrugs.

“I appreciate it. I don’t know what you said, but thank you.”

“It was nothing,” she shrugs again. “Erin just...well… sometimes it takes her a little while to get used to things.”

“I know,” he nods.

“Tracie’s nice. Erin will come around.”

“I hope she does.”

“How did you and Tracie meet, anyways?”

“Oh,” he sighs. “We were both in a support group for people who’d been widowed. Her husband passed away a few years ago, too. A couple months before Erin’s mom. Heart attack. Just as sudden, you know?”

“Erin’s never mentioned that you went to a support group.”

“Well, I’ve never told her,” he says.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“How long did you go?”

“I still do.”

“Really?”

“I know, it’s… it’s been three and a half years, but…”

“It still hurts?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Still hurts.”

“You lost one of the most important people in your life,” she tells him. “I don't think it's supposed to stop hurting.”

“I think you might be right,” he agrees.

“Erin told me that once. She’s pretty good at knowing what to say sometimes.”

“You love her,” he states rather than asks.

“Yes, sir,” Jillian grins.

“ Sir,” he mimicks with a grimace.

“Is that not what I’m supposed to call my father-in-law? Because if not, pop culture totally lied to me.”

“I would prefer you to never call me ‘sir’. It makes me feel very old.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll stick to Frank, then.”

“How about Dad?”

“What?”

“You could call me Dad,” he says, then seems to hesitate. “I mean, if you wanted to. But you don’t have to.”

Jillian stares at him for a moment. Speechless. Her mouth opens, then closes again, and a sound doesn’t come out. They’ve stilled, no longer moving with the music. Finally, Jillian speaks again.

“I’ve never called anybody that before,” she says softly.

She hugs him. Just throws herself onto him, wrapping her arms around him, and he laughs, returning the hug. When she pulls away, she blinks rapidly, trying to hide the emotions that have overtaken her. But when she looks up at him, his blue eyes -- exactly the same shade as Erin’s -- are also shining. And they both laugh.

*

“Alright, see ya tomorrow!”

“What?! No! You are not coming into work tomorrow!”

“The downside of getting married on a Sunday,” Jillian shrugs. “Gotta go right back to work the next day.”

“No! You just got married!” Abby argues, just drunk enough that she doesn't seem to realize that Jillian is joking around. “You are not allowed to come into work tomorrow. It is forbidden!”

“Oh, it's forbidden?” Jillian laughs, holding onto Erin’s hand as they leave the venue. Each of them are carrying a cat carrier in their free hand.

“Yes! Forbidden!” she repeats.

Erin drops Jillian’s hand to extend her own, hailing a cab.

“Oh, hey, by the way,” Erin says, turning to look at Abby and Patty. “Who won your little contest?”

“What? You guys knew about that?”

Jillian and Erin exchange a glance and they both laugh.

“Uh, yeah,” Jillian says. “You're not very subtle, you know.”

“I don't know who won,” Patty admits. “I thought I was doing pretty good, but that speech, Abby. I think the speech may have done it for you.”

“Aw, no, Patty! You really were the best maid of honour throughout this whole process. I mean, this venue! You got this venue!”

“Oh, but that cake topper? And the cake?! Abby!”

“The bachelorette party you threw was so good!”

“ And you convinced Erin to get that dress and she looks so incredible and--”

“So, you both won, then?” Erin interrupts.

“I'd say that they did,” Jillian agrees. “They are both the best maids of honour in the whole world.”

“They really are.”

*

They stumble into their apartment. They pause for just a moment to put the cat carriers on the floor, opening the doors for the cats to emerge before Jillian tugs on Erin’s hand, but she pulls too hard and Erin trips forward, giggling, and Jillian’s arms wrap around her, steadying her. Erin kisses her. She kisses her and wastes no time, quickly begins sliding the buttons out of their buttonholes on Jillian’s white jumpsuit. She isn’t entirely sober, though, and she struggles, only managing to get two buttons undone without looking. She pulls away from Jillian so that she can focus on the buttons, and Jillian laughs, reaches down herself and undoes them easily, opening her top, pulling her arms from the sleeves.

Erin connects her hands to Jillian’s scorching skin, running them along her sides, up and down, around to her back, unclasping her bra, pulling it off of her. She kisses across her shoulder, over her neck, slowly pushing them towards the bedroom. She can feel Jillian’s hands on her, fumbling with the zipper at the back of her dress, finally pulling it down.

“We should--” Jillian begins, pulling away from Erin. “You should take that off and hang it up because as much as I would love to rip it off of you and leave it on the floor, it is very nice and shouldn’t be treated that way.”

Erin laughs and she nods, agreeing.

“Okay,” she says, slipping the sleeves down her arms, the bodice falling off of her, and she steps out of the dress, carrying it into the bedroom, feeling Jillian’s eyes on her. Jillian follows, and she undresses as well, simply tossing her outfit on top of the dresser while Erin puts hers on a hanger, securing it away in the closet.

Jillian sits down on the bed. She smiles at Erin. Her eyelids look heavy and she blinks a lot, and it’s obvious that she’s tired. Erin is tired, too. But she steps towards her anyways, climbs onto her lap, leans down to her to press their lips together. Jillian sighs into the kiss, her hands roaming over Erin’s skin. She pushes her down, back onto the bed, and Jillian rolls them over so that she’s on top.

“I’m gonna…,” she mumbles, slowly kissing down her neck, one hand moving between them, sliding down Erin’s body. “Take...you… and. I’m...m’gonna… make...the…”

Her movements are slow, and they begin to slow even more until she's hardly moving at all.

“Holtz?”

“Hmph?”

“You’re falling asleep.”

“No’m’not.”

Her face is buried in Erin’s neck, her mouth still attached to her skin but unmoving, and she’s halfway on top of Erin, halfway on the bed, her hand still, just under the waistband of Erin’s underwear.

“You’re not?”

“Nmph,” she answers. Erin smiles. She lifts a hand, pushes the blonde hair out of Jillian’s face to find closed eyes and parted lips. She presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s go to sleep,” she says softly.

“But we… it’s… wedding night,” Jillian manages to mumble out.

“I know, and we’re both really, really tired.”

Jillian’s only response is a soft snore.

*

She’s already sort of awake when she hears movement beside her. She can see the sun from behind her closed eyelids, knows that it’s morning, but doesn’t bother trying to be fully awake. Until she feels fingertips brushing against her forehead, moving her bangs from her eyes, and she can’t stop herself from smiling.

“Morning,” she mumbles, not opening her eyes quite yet.

“Afternoon.”

“Really?”

She finally opens her eyes. It’s not really a surprise that they managed to sleep so late. Jillian is looking at her, and she nods. Her hair is messy, still pinned up, sections of it limp and falling down. Her cheeks are rosy from sleep. Her eyeliner is smudged in a way that looks way too good for it to not have been on purpose. It’s easily Erin’s favourite sight in the world to wake up to.

“Hey,” Jillian smiles. “You know what I was just thinking?”

“Hm?”

“That I have the prettiest wife in the world.”

“Mm, I dunno,” Erin says, unable to stifle a yawn, speaking through it. “‘Cause I think that I do.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

Erin grins. Wife. She doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of hearing it. Of saying it. Her wife.

“Guess what.”

“What?” Jillian asks.

“We’re married.”

“We totally are, aren’t we?! You married me.”

“Hell yeah, I did!” she laughs, and then lets out another yawn. “And we spent our first night as a married couple sleeping.”

“It was kind of awesome, though, wasn’t it?”

“It was, actually.”

“We have plenty of time to consummate our marriage. In fact, we can start consummating today!”

“I would love to. But first, can we order some food? I’m so hungry.”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely. What do you want?” she asks her.

“I dunno,” Erin shrugs. “How about tacos?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jillian agrees, reaching over to the nightstand to find her cell phone. “Our usual place should be open today, right?”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Is it not a national holiday today?” Jillian asks.

“What?” Erin laughs.

“We just got married,” she shrugs. “Feels like it should be a national holiday.”

“You’re right. But I don’t think the taco place will observe it.”

“Rude,” she mumbles, tapping her phone screen a few times. “Your regular?”

“Yes, please. And extra--”

“Extra guacamole, I know.”

“Right,” she smiles.

“And...ordered,” she announces, tossing her phone aside, and then looking over at Erin with a wicked grin. “I have an idea.”

“What?” Erin asks.

“Let’s find out how many times I can make you come before the food does.”

*

The answer is almost three.

She’s right on the very edge of number three, her thighs shaking, ragged breaths coming out in short little bursts, fingers threaded tightly through Jillian’s hair, and she's moaning, whimpering, and Jillian’s phone rings. She doesn't even stop what she's doing, just blindly reaches towards the noise with her free hand, fingers closing around her phone.

“No, no, no, nooo,” Erin whines, fingers tightening even more, clearly not wanting to allow Jillian to stop, not yet, but Jillian pulls away anyways, and Erin lets out a loud groan of frustration, hands leaving Jillian’s hair as she flops back onto the bed, panting heavily. Jillian laughs, presses a quick kiss to the inside of Erin’s thigh, and puts her phone to her ear.

“Hello? Yeah. I'll be right there.”

She slides off the bed, onto her feet, taking a long look at Erin, flushed and sweaty, messy hair, a scowl set on her face, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“It would've been rude to not answer,” she says simply. Erin doesn't respond. Doesn't even look at her. Jillian laughs again, grabbing for her red smoking jacket, throwing it around her body, tying the sash around her waist. It hangs loosely and slightly opened on her chest and barely falls past her thighs. She waits for Erin to make some sort of objection to her answering the door in that, but she doesn't. Doesn't say anything.

She doesn't miss the way that the delivery guy looks her over, an eyebrow raised, and Jillian can only grin at him.

“I just got married,” she explains happily, taking the bag from him and closing the door, turning back towards the bedroom.

Erin is exactly where she left her. Exactly how she left her. Knees bent and parted, hands folded over her stomach, staring up at the ceiling.

“Food’s here,” she says, fighting back the smirk as she pointedly ignores Erin’s position. She opens the bag, peering into it, moving a few things around.

“Jillian? Sweetheart?” Erin says kindly. Far too kindly.

“Yes, darling?” Jillian replies, just as sweetly, innocently, glancing up from the bag, finding that Erin has propped herself up on her elbows and is looking at her with a smile, expression calm, and her words come out just as calmly.

“If you don't get the fuck back over here and finish what you started, I swear to god, food is going to be the only thing you'll be eating for the rest of the day.”

Jillian surveys her. Her sweet smile, her burning eyes. She's not joking around and Jillian knows it. She drops the bag of food, practically throwing it to the ground, hurrying back towards the bed, settling herself between Erin’s legs, winding her arms around her thighs.

“Being married to you is fun, ” she grins up at her. “I can't wait to do it forever.”

*

“You know what's weird?”

They've been married for three months.

Married, married, married.

Erin looks up at Jillian, watches the way she uses her fingers to separate the tangles in her hair, sitting at the edge of the bed in just an old t-shirt and underwear. Erin’s already in bed, blankets pulled up to her shoulders.

“What’s weird?” she asks.

“Sometimes I have to remind myself that we're married,” Jillian states, giving her hair one last run-through with her fingers before crawling towards the top of the bed. “It's not like I forget. Not really. I mean, when I call you my wife and stuff, I obviously know and remember that we’re married. But sometimes when we're at home and it's just us… I have to remind myself.”

“Why is that?”

“Dunno,” she shrugs. “I guess it's because everything feels the same as it always has. Even though we're married.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Erin asks.

“No,” Jillian shakes her head. “I don't think so. Being married to you feels a lot like dating you. Which was my favourite thing in the world, until we got married. Now, being married to you is my favourite thing in the world.”

Erin smiles and Jillian turns out the light.

“I think it’s a good thing,” Erin says. “I think that’s how I felt when we first started dating. Like the whole world was supposed to change. But it didn’t. Instead, it just felt like everything was...in its right place.”

“Yeah,” Jillian agrees softly, her body curving perfectly against Erin’s. Its right place.

“I think it means that it’s right,” she adds.

“I think so, too,” Jillian says. “I love you.”

Erin kisses her goodnight.

“I love you, too.”

*

Jillian follows Abby back into their lab at the Higgins Institute, and they're bouncing, ecstatic, can't stop laughing. They saw a ghost. They saw a ghost. A real-life, actual ghost, right there, right in front of them, no mistaking it. And she was beautiful.

She was beautiful.

Not the ghost.

Jillian’s heart hasn't stopped pounding since the moment she saw her.

Not the ghost.

Abby is saying something. Something about equipment. And Jillian responds in an automatic sort of way, even though her mind is elsewhere.

“Do you think she'll come back?” she asks, and it's sort of out of nowhere, but Abby doesn't seem to think so, she just shrugs.

“Well, I mean, I don't know how far she could have gone, and she's already somehow past the barrier, so I don't think--”

“No,” Jillian interrupts, shaking her head, not looking at Abby. Instead, looking towards the door. The door that she had walked through only hours before. “Not the ghost.”

“What?” Abby asks, sounding confused, looking at Jillian, following her gaze, and she furrows her eyebrows. “You mean Erin?”

Jillian doesn't answer. She doesn't answer, and she keeps looking at the door, and Abby stares at her, scrutinizes her, and then shakes her head in disbelief.

“ What?! No,” she says. “No. Absolutely not.   Come on, Holtzmann, you are not-- you can't-- her?! After everything she did to me?!”

Jillian doesn't answer.

“Besides, she's straight, you know. So just… forget about it, okay? That thought? The one that's in your head? Just get rid of it right now because it's not happening.”

“But do you think she'll come back?” she asks again.

Abby sighs. She softens. She looks towards the door, too, and then back at Jillian. Shrugs. Gives a small, sad sort of smile.

“I wouldn't count on it.”

She walks away. Jillian continues to stare at the door. The door that she had walked through only hours before.

She smiles.

“I hope she does.”