Sequel to Swiss Army Wife. A sexy apology letter to the girls for what I put them through and will continue to put them through for the foreseeable future. This is uh... basically all smut so:

Full uncensored illustrated version on AO3 or my website.

The roof was Erin's favourite place in the whole firehouse. It wasn't quiet (nowhere in this city was really quiet to her), but it was calm. At night, it reminded her of summers spent on the hoods of cars staring up at the stars above Michigan. You couldn't see the stars in New York City, but you could see the city lights, and those were just as nice to her now. As she looks out at the skyline from her seat on the concrete, she sees the buildings lit up with messages to them. New York still hearted the Ghostbusters. Some would stop inevitably, but other ones would pop up when they'd helped out someplace new or visited someone again.

She hears the door to the roof open and turns to find Holtz holding a pizza box, a can of Pringles and a quilt. She can see her left hand from here and Erin smiles fondly at the ring on her fiancée's hand. Even just the word fiancée makes her heart all warm and tingly. She still can't believe she did it; that she was the one to arrange the grand gesture, get down on one knee and ask the girl of her dreams to marry her. Sometimes she still can't believe Holtz had said yes.

"How are you not freezing?" She laughs as she hands Erin the pizza and Pringles. The quilt gets draped around her shoulders, even if it's entirely for Holtz' benefit.

"We have real winters in Michigan."

Holtz scoffs as she sits down and snuggles up under the blanket beside Erin. They like to just... sit up here now. It's their little place. Erin wonders if she could fit her whole family up here for a wedding.

"I should show you around the U.P. sometime."

"Hard pass. I've met yoopers before. Abby took me home for Christmas once to make sure I didn't blow up anything while she was gone. Not looking forward to a repeat performance," Holtz laughs. She pops open the pizza box and Erin grimaces.

"Pineapple? Really?"

"Just on my half. Although, I don't know how I feel about marrying a girl with such an unrefined pizza palette," she jokes as she inhales her first slice in three bites and hands the box to Erin. The older woman laughs, but in that stiff way that means anxious Erin is in the house.

Holtz swallows quickly and places her free hand on Erin's cheek, "Hey, hey... I'm kidding."

"I know," she sighs and leans into the touch.

"I wanna marry you more than anything, even if you hate pineapple pizza, probably partially because you hate it so much, and I love that, because it's just so you."

Holtz is staring into her eyes in that way she does. Erin can't put it into words, but DAMN, there are always butterflies in her stomach when Holtz stares at her like that. Erin leans her head into the crook of Holtz' neck because it's a little too much right now.

"I love you," she whispers softly.

"I love you more," Holtz kisses the top of her head.

Erin looks up at her and quirks an eyebrow, "Then why didn't you propose first?"

Holtz flushes and grumbles, "Eat your boring pepperoni pizza."

Three slices each later, and Holtz pops open the Pringles. She immediately shoves two into her mouth like a duck bill. Erin can't help but giggle when she waggles her eyebrows in mock seduction.

"Quit it, weirdo!"

"Ayg ee!" Holtz manages through the chips.

Erin takes a bite out of them and Holtz falls backwards in shock.

"Gilbert! How crude!" She scolds as she swipes away chip crumbs, but it holds no weight behind a smile. Erin munches happily as she hovers over Holtz' prone body. Holtz smirks.

"Easy tiger, don't start what you can't finish," She warns as Erin pins her against the quilt covered concrete.

In a low voice, Erin purrs, "Who says I can't finish you right here?"

"Several public indecency laws. I should know, I've broken a lot of them," Holtz retorts, but she's already wrapped her arms around Erin's neck.

Erin rolls her eyes and pulls half the quilt overtop of them.

"Nothing suspicious about a moaning quilt on a roof," Holtz snickers.

"Well, then you'd better be quiet."

Her fiancée's eyes go wide, as does her smile. She laughs as she pulls Erin down for a kiss, "God, you're such a sex kitten and I love it!"

Lips press delicately against each other. They taste like pizza and Pringles. It's a little gross, honestly, but Erin isn't backing down as she deepens the kiss. (Although, she nearly falters when she can taste the faintest hint of pineapple.)

Her hand starts to roam across the body below her. She sometimes forgets how small Holtz is, how that big personality is concentrated into such a bite-size package. Her hand snakes under Holtz' shirt, palm flat against the skin of her stomach. Holtz gives a contented little moan into her mouth, urging her on. Her hand travels lower, leaving delicious skin behind to grind the ball of her hand against Holtz through the fabric of her pants.

"Impatient," Holtz says against her lips.

Erin doesn't deny it as she unbuttons Holtz' pants and slips a hand under the band of her underwear.

God, she fucking loved this roof.

Holtz collapses some time later, jelly-limbed and panting. Erin kisses the underside of her chin, nuzzles her neck, until Holtz can remember her name again.

She pulls off her glasses and places a hand dramatically over her eyes. There's a bite mark on her palm and it's giving Erin ideas.

"Can we go home now? I am very bad at staying quiet."

They practically sprint home.

They're already half-undressed as they stumble into the door of their apartment and they're naked by the time they make it into their bedroom. Holtz moves to push Erin down on the bed, but the taller woman flips their positions and Holtz finds herself staring up at the ceiling.

"Not done with you, yet," Erin says as Holtz props herself up to look at her in confusion.

Erin sashays over to the bedside table and after a moment of shuffling through its contents, pulls out a harness and a dildo. Neon green, because Holtz thought it would be funny when she'd gotten it for Erin. Erin hated to admit that it was.

"I love when you're on a power trip. Go on then, Dr. Gilbert, make my day," Holtz lets out a whoop of delight, throws her hands up in the air and falls back down on the bed.

They lay there gasping in the afterglow for who knows how long. As they both float back down off their peaks, Erin's stomach rumbles.

Holtz laughs and slaps her ass playfully, "Need some carbs after that workout, stud?"

She nods, still out of breath. She always forgot how much of a workout that was, but fuck it was worth it.

Holtz kisses her, then wiggles out from under her and walks to the kitchen on wobbly legs. Erin surges with a bit of pride at her ability to render Holtzmann to a state of weak knees.

Erin has managed to sit up by the time Holtz saunters back in from the kitchen with sustenance. She's holding a plate of single Pringles with little cubes of pineapple on top. Erin looks at the plate and then back at her, annoyed.

"Pineapple pizza Pringles," she giggles.

Erin groans.

"And a PB & J for you," she holds out another plate from behind her back, as she sits down. Erin takes it, and flops down onto her stomach across her fiancée's lap.

"I can't believe I'm marrying you," Erin grumbles.

Holtz pats her head patronizingly, "Hey… you were the one that asked for this."

Erin rolls her eyes and smiles. She takes a bite of her sandwich, which has been cut into the shape of two little long-necked dinosaurs, courtesy of the sandwich cutter Holtz had insisted on buying.

She's so very glad that she asked.