My plan this weekend is very simple. We've all agreed we need a weekend off; no firehouse, no busting, no working. And, most important of all, we're staying away from each other. If we hang out together, we're just gonna talk about work at some point, therefore defeating the purpose. Besides, we hang out all the time, we can take one weekend off from each other to dedicate strictly to ourselves.
I'm using this weekend to decide what I need to do about my feelings for Holtz. And what better way to figure out the truth than to get as drunk as possible.
So, when we all tell each other goodnight on Friday, I head straight to the liquor store closest to my apartment and buy a bottle of tequila, because I know that if I want to get drunk, that'll do the trick. I also pick up a pizza on the way home so I don't have to cook anything.
As soon as I get home, I change into my favorite pair of pajamas (fuzzy, black and white, with little UFO's and The X-Files logo) and put Dirty Dancing on the television, making myself comfortable on the couch. I pour myself a shot, then another, and another, and by the middle of the movie I've given up on the glass and start taking swigs from the bottle itself.
By the end of the movie, I'm so drunk, I'm afraid that if I were to stand up, I would fall flat on my face. My hope in drinking was to do one of the following: 1. Reason with myself that the feelings I have for Holtzmann are not going to just go away and I probably need to just see what would happen if I told her. 2. Convince myself that I don't actually have genuine feelings for Holtzmann and I might just need to get laid. Which hasn't happened in quite a while. Like, A WHILE.
However, I may have gone a little overboard with the alcohol, because now I'm struggling to make any coherent thoughts at all. Except.... I have to pee. I definitely have to pee. I stand up, but have to lean against the couch arm to keep myself upright. The room spins as I make my way to the hall and fall about halfway to my destination. Jeez, this is a disaster. I lay on the ground face down, debating on just sleeping here or getting up and making another attempt at the bathroom....
I wish Holtzmann was here. She would know what to do. She would cheer me on, tell me I could do it. Actually, she would probably just carry me there herself. Holtzmann....beautiful, beautiful Holtzmann. I need to tell her. I need help peeing. We gotta find that basset hound. I'll call her.
I take my phone out of my pajama pocket and look for her number in my contacts. The screen is spinning and blurry, and way too bright for my eyes. When I find her and hit send, I lay the phone on the ground next to my head, putting it on speaker. It rings once.... twice... three times. She's not gonna answer, who am I kidding? She's probably with some girl. It's Friday night. If I was as hot as Holtzmann I'd be with some girl, that's for sure.
"Hello, Erin!" She answers, chipper as ever.
I smile broadly at the sound of her voice. "Oh, Holtzy, how are you doing this lovely night?" I slur.
"Uh, I'm doing alright, hot stuff. How about yourself?" I can hear amusement in her voice.
"Oh I'm good. I like it when you call me hot stuff." I giggle loudly, causing Holtzmann to also chuckle.
"Dr. Gilbert, have you been drinking?"
"I have, Dr. Holtzmann. And now I've fallen and I can't get up!"
Holtzmann gets suddenly serious. "Erin, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"Not yet! Since when do you call me Erin? I said I like hot stuff," I slur.
"I'm coming over."
The phone suddenly hangs up and I frown. She hung up on me. How rude. The next thing I know I'm passed out face down in the carpet. The texture feels good on my face....
------
I don't know how much time has passed, but I wake up groggily to Holtzmann flipping me over and pulling me up into a sitting position by my arms.
"Erin, are you okay? Did you hurt anything?" She holds my face in her hands and looks at me scrutinizingly.
"No. I have to pee. Really bad," I mumble.
"Okay, I'll help you get to the bathroom, but your gonna have to pee on your own," she says, flashing that gorgeous grin.
"That's a deal, Lucille." I give her a thumbs up and she laughs, shaking her head.
She grabs me by the arm to pull me up and I throw it around her shoulders. For a moment, it feels like we're dancing and my head swims at the thought. Or is it swimming from the alcohol? Holtz turns me around slowly and walks me to the bathroom down the hall. She helps me sit down on the toilet and smiles again. I can feel my face turning red. Oh well, I can blame it on the alcohol.
"You're pajamas are cute," she says, winking in the process.
"Thanks," I reply giddily.
"Well, I'm gonna go stand outside the door now so you can, you know, relieve your bladder without me trying catch looks at you," she says, slowly walking toward the door.
"I don't care if you see me," I giggle, wanting this to sound more flirtatious than it actually did.
She smirks and shakes her head. "You would tomorrow. Yell at me when you're done."
When I'm done, I almost feel like I'm even more drunk, if that's even possible. I call for Holtz and she saunters back in the bathroom. My head spins and it looks like she's shaking her head violently, but I know she's not.
"Holtz, I can't make it to the bed. I'm just gonna sleep here." I lay my arm on the wall next to me and prop my head on it, using it like a pillow.
"Oh no, I'm gonna get you bed."
With that she swoops me up she in her arms bridal style and carries me to my bedroom. This is ridiculous, she shouldn't be able to carry me. I'm a solid two or three inches taller than her. But honestly, I enjoy it more than I should. I nuzzle my head against her, wrapping my arms around her neck and it feels like she holds me closer, but maybe that's just my drunken imagination. She smells intoxicating; like expensive cologne and apple shampoo.
My ride ends too quickly when she gingerly lowers me onto my bed. She rolls back the comforter and I climb underneath it. When she pulls it back up, she tucks me in like a little kid at bedtime, patting the blanket around my sides comfortably. I take Holtzmann's face in my hands and her eyes widen in shock.
"Jillian," I say in the most serious tone I can muster whilst this drunk.
For the first time ever since I've met Holtzmann, her face turns a deep shade of red and she bites her bottom lip. It occurs to me now that this is the first time I've ever called her by her first name.
"Y-yes, Gilbert?"
"You look beautiful tonight." I smile at her and suddenly, I'm kissing her. Her lips are softer than anyone I've ever kissed. It's amazing, almost perfect, except for the fact that she's not kissing me back. Her lips have formed a thin line and I open my eyes to see that hers are wide with shock.
She pulls away abruptly and we stare at each other blankly for a few moments. Then Holtzmann is backing up toward the door slowly. "Well, um, goodnight!" She practically runs out of the apartment and I hear the door slam shut behind her.
I throw my head against my bed pillow. Now I've royally messed this up. Real nice.
