I hadn't planned to participate in Holtzbert week because I knew I didn't have time to write something for each of the challenges, but then I got a last-minute inspiration and decided to go ahead with it. I missed the deadline, but this was intended for the Chinchilla day prompt (though it encompasses some Neurodiversity themes too).

I have another fic set in this same timeline in my WiP queue showing Abby's first encounter with Holtz's chinchillas. So maybe I need to figure out one for Patty too, but we'll see. I have so many partial stories I need to start wrapping up first (most Patty-related, so she's not missing out).

"That's the last of it," Patty said, walking back into the lobby from the garage where she had insisted on being the one to organize their luggage in the Ecto-1. "Though I can't say I love the fact that our toiletries and stuff are stacked side-by-side with that much radioactive material."

"To be fair, we carry all of those radioactive materials on our backs every time we go on a bust," Erin pointed out, putting the last of the drinks and snacks they had picked out into the cooler.

"Yeah, I try not to think about that too much," Patty muttered, wiping her hands on her pants at the thought.

Erin smiled to herself. The team had been called for their first out-of-town bust. The haunted property was in upstate New York, so it wasn't necessarily exotic, but it would require them to stay at the very least overnight away from home. It may have been a work trip, but the air of a girls' weekend and road trip had everyone a bit excited, even if the Ecto-1 wasn't the most comfortable vehicle for a long drive.

The last time Erin had gotten to do a trip like this was in college, when she and Abby had driven around Michigan to investigate various reports of hauntings. This time they not only were invited to the house, they were going in as experts, were most likely actually going to catch something, and they had two more friends they loved with them. She sometimes marveled how her life had not only come full-circle, but become even better than those nostalgic days that had started it all.

"All right, we about ready to go then?"

She was jarred out of her memories by her partner-in-crime since those days coming down the stairs with Holtzmann in tow. "We're past rush hour," Abby continued, "but traffic's still probably going to be a bitch getting out of town."

"Everything's packed and my phone's loaded up with enough music to keep us busy for at least a few hours before having to break out Erin's recordings of herself singing the nineties Top Forties to stay awake."

"I was a broke high school student when I made those!" Erin protested, blushing.

"But you still have them," Abby said pointedly.

Erin hunched her shoulders. "Well, why buy the songs now when I already have a copy of them?"

"I cannot agree enough. And not just because I am so incredibly grateful those cassettes exist in the first place," Holtzmann grinned, clapping Erin on the shoulder as she passed by. "If you want to start loading up, I'll be along in a jiff."

"Tell me you're not getting more stuff to bring," Patty groaned. "I just got everything to fit in the car."

"Nah," Holtzmann waved, heading to the front of the lobby. "Just gotta leave my spare key for Kevin. He's watching my kids this weekend."

Erin almost nodded that away as she picked up the cooler, but the words sank in like an EMP shorting out her mental processes.

"You're trusting Kevin to look after your kids?" Patty said incredulously, though not about the part of the sentence that had Erin's brain misfiring.

She had to mean the machines in her lab. That was the only thing that made sense.

"Yeah, he's been coming over for playdates with them for a while in case just such an occasion came up. Had to make sure they were okay with their Uncle Kev before leaving them with him anyway."

Okay, maybe not.

"And he's able to handle all their special needs?" Patty asked.

"Sure." Holtzmann shrugged. "I mean, god forbid, if anything permanent happened to me, Abby's promised to adopt them, but he should be able to deal with the rugrats for a couple days."

Abby nodding in a knowing way was the last straw as Erin struggled to reorient her mind to this new factor in her reality. "Whoa, whoa. You have kids?!" she blurted.

Everyone paused, looking at her as if realizing for the first time this was a mind-blowing revelation.

"You didn't know?" Holtzmann said, brow furrowing in almost as much confusion as Erin was dealing with.

"No, that seems like something that should have come up in the last six months!" Erin snapped, starting to get irritated by the amusement Abby was failing to hide with her faux-innocent expression. "I mean, oh my god, Holtzmann! How have you never mentioned that you're a mother?!" Even putting that idea into words felt wrong and her stomach flopped weirdly.

"Before you have an aneurysm, they ain't human kids," Patty said reassuringly before turning back to Holtzmann. "You seriously haven't shown her your chinchillas yet?"

Chinchillas?

A thread of normalcy started to wriggle its way through the shock in Erin's mind.

Holtz, to her credit, looked reasonably puzzled and apologetic. "Huh. I honestly thought I had… Sorry, Er. I promise, when we get back, I'll have you over to my place to see my chinchillas."

"Okay, I know it's not, but that's starting to sound like some kind of euphemism and I'm not really okay with that image," Abby said, wincing a bit.

"Chin…" Erin took a breath, closing her eyes for a moment to get her calm. "Your kids are chinchillas?"

"Yep," Holtzmann beamed proudly.

"Like, chinchilla-chinchillas?" Erin added, still wrapping her mind around it.

"Weird, fuzzy rats, yeah," Patty said.

"They're not rats," Holtzmann said, a bit put out. "They're a separate genetic family."

"Close enough," Patty snorted, leaning against a desk. "Don't get me wrong, they cute-looking rats, but they rats."

Holtzmann shrugged, giving Erin a slightly sheepish half-grin. "I like social rodent behavior. It's part of why I moved to New York."

Erin was starting to get her feet back under her. "And the rest of you knew about this," she said, turning to glare at Abby, who didn't have the grace to look at all remorseful. "And didn't feel any need to explain what she meant."

"I'm not gonna lie, I was having too much fun watching you try to figure out the logistics of how that would have worked," Abby grinned.

Erin set her jaw, narrowing her eyes at her former best friend. "Fine. Just for that, we're listening to show tunes for the first hour of the trip."

The smile fell from Abby's face. "You wouldn't."

Now Erin grinned. "And not the modern ones either."

"Hey, I filled you in when I realized you didn't know! Why should I suffer too?" Patty demanded.

They were saved when the front door opened and the man who would be keeping the home fires burning (although hopefully not literally) walked in.

"Kev! Just the man I wanted to see!" Holtzmann called, sauntering over as he dumped his bag at his desk.

"Yeah? About anything important?" he asked, cocking his head.

Holtzmann sucked in a breath through a grimace. "Not filling me with confidence there. You remember you're taking care of my girls while we're gone, right?"

His face lit up. "Oh, that! Yeah, I bought a new Frisbee and everything. Well, it's Mike Hat's, but he doesn't play with it anymore and I thought they'd like it."

"I'd say that's not a great toy for them, but I really wanna see if you actually get them to catch it." She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of one of her overall pockets. "I wrote up all the instructions. It's mostly feeding, water, cleaning out their cages if they get nasty. Basic stuff. Except there's one important thing you should probably know."

She leaned forward, conspiratorially. "I may have genetically-altered the chinchillas a bit. Nothing too big; super intelligence, bigger brains, maybe laser eyes, don't think that one took. But they might try to organize some escapes with the intent of taking over the world, so I need you to do a headcount every night before bed, got it? Just in case."

Kevin's eyes widened and he nodded seriously. "Okay, boss, you can count on me."

"I hope so because you could be all that stands between us and a chinchillapocalypse." Holtz grinned then, patting his shoulder. "Thanks, Kev. I appreciate it."

As they headed to the car, Abby frowned. "You were pulling his leg there, right? I mean, they can't really do all that, right?"

"Oh yeah, just figured that'd keep him on his toes," Holtz said, swinging into the driver's seat. "Most I've ever actually gotten them to do is solve a Sudoku, and it was in a beginner's book anyway."

Patty and Erin exchanged a now-familiar look over the top of the car that said they weren't sure if she was being serious, but didn't really want to press for more information.

Erin just shook her head, settling into the backseat, and filed it away into her growing mental category of random facts she was trying to put together to build a fuller understanding of Holtzmann.

OOO

The trip was every bit the fun getaway Erin had hoped it would be. She got to watch Abby squirm as she and Holtzmann lip-synced their way through The Best of Rogers and Hammerstein while Patty put on her headphones and pretended to be anywhere else. They played road trip games and told stories that made the time pass quickly. They took their pictures with a tourist trap Holtzmann insisted they stop at, grinning in front of a dinosaur skeleton made of car parts. The bust had been successful without any injuries or full-body slimings.

Staying in a hotel, even a cheap one where they all had to share one room with two beds had worked out well and felt like a sleepover, watching Pay-Per-View movies on the Mayor's dime until they dozed off. And then waking up first, since she and Abby were early risers, to see, despite what they had bet on, Patty had been the one to curl around Holtzmann in their sleep, which resulted in no end of teasing in the morning or on the drive home.

Now all were tired, the novelty of driving in the car having worn off a few hours and towns ago, and the bustle and glow of New York City at night was a warm and welcome sight.

They dropped Patty off at her place first, since she was the first on the way back to the Firehouse. Holtz blew her a kiss goodnight which earned her a middle finger in return.

Erin was gathering up her things to be the next one out when she noticed Holtzmann didn't make the turn to head toward her apartment. She frowned in confusion, but didn't say anything as they headed on to Abby's place next.

When Abby got out, Holtz waved Erin to join her up in the front seat, saying she felt like a cab driver with Erin sitting in the back.

As they took an unfamiliar route, Erin finally spoke up. "You, um, do know the way to my apartment, right?"

To her surprise, Holtzmann actually blushed slightly, never taking her eyes off the road. "Yeah, but, if you're not too tired and you don't mind, I was going to take us back to my place."

A little rush made Erin's heart pick up its pace. She knew they had had an especially easy camaraderie on the trip. Sitting opposite each other at the booth in the diner they stopped at for dinner, laughing at each other's stories on the drive, Holtzmann lip-syncing along with the tapes of Erin's high school self singing nineties hits… The way Holtzmann had winked at her as they were debating bed arrangements at the hotel…

Erin licked her lips, unsure what to say to that invitation. She was well aware of the closeness that had been forming over the past months of working together, the comfortable dynamic they had fallen into, but a step like this…?

Before she could figure out how to proceed, Holtzmann continued and Erin noticed her nervousness was apologetic, not flirtatious. "I didn't mean to leave you out," she said, one hand rubbing behind her ear where the arm of her glasses irritated the skin sometimes. "Abby's known for years and I told Patty one time when I thought I was gonna die. And I brought Kevin in since he made sense to help while we're away. With everything going on, I thought I'd told you too at some point. I wasn't trying to exclude you or treat you as less important to me or anything like that."

Erin blinked, pulling her mind out of the pathway it had started taking and trying to figure out which one Holtz's was on. A memory from before the trip flickered back to relevance. "Wait, you mean—?"

"If you're tired and just want to go home, it's cool, but if you've got a few minutes…" Holtzmann finally glanced over as they stopped at a red light. "I'd like you to meet my kids."

Erin's heart warmed and she felt a smile pulling at her lips. "Sure. Yeah, absolutely. I'd like that."

"Great." Holtz smiled too, then straightened up, nodding decisively. "Okay. Let's do this."

Holtzmann's apartment wasn't in quite as sketchy a neighborhood as Erin had imagined sometimes, but it definitely wasn't one of the best areas either.

"You sure it's okay to leave the Ecto parked out here?" Erin asked, following Holtz up the stoop.

"Yeah, everybody knows not to mess with my stuff by now," Holtz said, unlocking the door to the building. "The last guy who did still hasn't gotten his skin back to the original color." She paused, thinking. "His hair's come back okay though."

They made the hike up to the third floor through a stairwell and hallway that looked like somewhere they would be called to for a bust, and Holtzmann unlocked her apartment itself, stepping to the side and bowing as she gestured Erin in with a flourish. "Milady, welcome to Chez Holtzmann. Please don't wipe your feet before entering; the static discharge might blow out the power grid."

As Erin carefully stepped inside, she mused it was pretty much exactly what she expected. An extension of the chaos that inhabited Holtz's lab at the Firehouse. A kitchen that looked like it doubled as a chemistry lab and first aid station, complete with eye wash rigged into the sink. A steady range of humming noises as machines idled and cycled and a faint odor of ozone and something burnt onto a cooking pot.

"It's…very you," she said politely.

"Thank you," Holtz said, unoffended, dumping her bags by what Erin realized was a sofa.

"And you have chinchillas somewhere in here?" Erin asked, realizing she should be watching her step more carefully, as one could potentially dart out of any of the nooks and crannies of stuff at any moment.

"Well, they have their own space. Come on, I'll show you the playroom."

Erin set her purse on the only clear spot she could find (the edge of a bookcase that currently seemed to be containing both DVDs and a small server farm) and followed Holtzmann down the short hallway to the doorways of a bathroom that wasn't as scary as she feared, a bedroom she could at least recognize as such, and a closed door Holtz stopped in front of.

"Now, they haven't met you yet and they're probably going to be a little worked up since I've been gone so long, so just be really calm and quiet," she explained. "If they don't want to come to you, it's nothing personal. They just get freaked out a little easily, especially by new things."

Erin was surprised by the sincerity of Holtz's demeanor, but nodded. "Sure. Whatever you need me to do."

"Just be chill with them and they'll probably like you pretty quickly. They usually pick up on how I feel about people."

Erin didn't have time to fully process that statement before Holtz had opened the door and stepped into the small room.

For a moment, Erin was convinced the doorway was a portal to another place totally separate from the apartment she had just been standing in. While clutter and chaos reigned without, this space was clean and peaceful. She found herself gaping as she stepped inside. The walls were painted sky blue and lined from floor to ceiling with an elaborate array of cages and tunnels, making up a network of pathways and chambers for the animals to roam around. Quiet music played gently from an unseen speaker and although the air had a bit of a barnyard smell and there were wood shavings scattered around the floor, the center of the room was clear and mostly clean, with a few pet toys lying here and there.

It was such an unexpected oasis of peace Erin found herself drawing in a deep breath, her blood pressure lowering just from being in there.

"Ladies?" Holtz called gently, but eyes dancing with excitement. "Mommy's home. I brought you guys a present to show how sorry I am for leaving you."

Rustling noises caught Erin's attention and she noticed movement in several of the various "rooms" of the network. Eyes peered out of hidey holes, blurs of gray scurried down tunnels, and suddenly the central chamber of the enclosure was populated with three of the cutest bundles of fur Erin had ever seen.

Erin had never been one to have pets herself. She liked animals well enough, but hadn't really been comfortable with being solely responsible for the life of another being. Especially not after the ficus incident. But the way these chinchillas bounced and ran over each other to greet Holtzmann as she poked her fingers through the mesh, letting them sniff and rub against the bars to get closer to her, her heart melted and she understood the charm of having someone who got that excited to see you when you came home from a long trip.

"Hey! There are my babies. Who are my good little caviomorphs? Who—Wait…" Holtzmann's joy suddenly turned to worry. "Where's your sister? Boson?" She stepped back, scanning the various pathways and hiding places. "Boson? Are you hiding from Mommy?"

Erin tried to help, looking around in the cages nearest her, but seeing only wood chips, a bowl of dust, and what was most likely a toilet area based on the smell.

A streak of dread rose in Erin's heart. She may have just learned the chinchillas existed, but it was clear how much Holtz adored them. If something had gone wrong while they were away, if Kevin had done anything careless that led to something bad happening… Erin was glad she had decided to be there with Holtzmann at this moment. She didn't want to imagine Holtz having to discover something tragic with no one there with her.

"Ah-ha!"

Erin breathed a sigh of relief at the victory in Holtz's voice as she peered into an area where a fuzzy tail stuck out of a plush bed.

"All right, I won't wake you up, just making sure you're breathing." Hotlzmann shrugged at Erin as she returned to the central cage door. "I named her Boson because she's so hard to find most of the time. She'll come out when she's ready. If you try to drag her out when she doesn't want to, she'll spray you."

"Ah. Noted." Erin didn't know exactly what a chinchilla could spray at you, but there was nothing good it could be and given the penchant slime had for finding Erin, she didn't even want to risk adding another fluid to her list of experiences.

Holtzmann plopped down cross-legged in front of the main cage and used her hand to sweep the wood shavings and occasional droppings off an area next to her, patting the ground with her hand. "Close the door and come here. They like it when we're down at their level."

Erin was glad she was wearing an older pair of jeans for the trip as she settled next to Holtzmann, knowing it looked pretty well maintained, but wondering how much bacteria was in the urine and feces of chinchillas. But as soon as Holtz opened the cage and the three more social bundles of fur poured out, she was torn instead between the instinct to recoil away from approaching rodents and the cuteness of the reunion between Holtz and her babies. Although the majority of the excitement was clearly on Holtz's end, the chinchillas crawled over her legs, sniffing everything, and one even climbed up to where she could pick it up, burying her face in its fur as she murmured incomprehensible greetings to it.

"Quark's the friendliest one here," she explained. "The one trying to chew on my boot is Lepton, Boson's the one hiding, and that one's Professor McGonagall, for obvious reasons."

Erin looked at the one scratching itself and wasn't sure what those reasons were, but nodded anyway. "They're adorable, Holtz."

"Thank you. Kids, this is Erin. She's Mommy's other friend. Just because you haven't met her yet doesn't mean she's any less important."

Erin looked down at the chinchillas, who had barely noticed her presence yet, and felt the expectation to wave at them. "Hi. I work with your mom. Um, can they understand us?" Holtzmann's probably-joke about genetically altering them returned to her mind.

"I think they get some stuff. Body language is the big thing, though. Relax, Er." Holtzmann leaned back, bracing herself with her arms and stretching out her legs so the chinchillas could climb on her without risking getting squished. "At worst they might nip a little bit if they're trying to figure out what you are. Or they might pee on you, but I taught them we save that for people Mommy doesn't like, so you should be good."

"Oh. Good." Erin tried to make herself relax, mirroring Holtzmann's pose carefully. While the one named Quark seemed content to climb and nuzzle around Holtzmann, Lepton and Professor McGonagall started to venture closer, warily sniffing near Erin.

Erin held her breath, trying not to jump and scare the animals as Lepton propped her front paws on Erin's leg, pulling back skittishly before venturing back to try again, this time climbing up the whole way.

"Hi," Erin said quietly. "Who's a cute little guy?"

She reached out to try to touch the chinchilla's soft fur and Lepton immediately bolted away, racing back into the cage. Erin froze, mortified she had upset one of Holtz's pets.

"Er, don't worry, that's normal," Holtzmann assured her, extracting Quark from the bib of her overalls. "They're kind of like cats. If you just chill and ignore them, they'll get used to you. You're doing fine."

Erin nodded, but she didn't feel like she was and the disapproving stare Professor McGonagall was giving her didn't make her feel any better. She was beginning to understand why the name had been appropriate.

"Here, put your hand over and let Quark check you out," Holtz offered, cradling the tamest chinchilla against her stomach.

Erin cautiously extended her hand, letting Quark sniff at her fingers. She didn't try to move, scared of chasing off even the most easy-going of the group. To her amazement, after a moment of sniffing, Quark bumped her head against Erin's hand and she felt the softest hair of anything she had ever touched in her life.

"Oh my god," she gasped, aware her face was split in a wide smile.

Holtzmann was beaming back with pride, whether for her 'daughter' or her friend, Erin wasn't sure. "See? Told you you've got this."

"She's so soft! I mean, I knew they were, but I couldn't imagine how soft."

"Yeah, they're something special." Holtz was avoiding her eyes now, looking down at Quark as she stroked the chinchilla's fur. "That's kind of part of why I got them. When things get too much or my brain's too busy, it's nice to come in here and just have some chinchilla time, you know?"

Realization dawned in Erin's head. Suddenly everything about this room made sense, the calm, the peace, the gentle sensory environment.

Erin nodded, taking in the soothing atmosphere. "Yeah. I could have used a room like this a lot of times in my life."

Erin felt a bit of emotional tension creeping into the air, almost an edge of embarrassment, or at least getting too close to something neither of them liked talking about directly. Instead, she decided to change the subject. "Can I ask, what made you get into rodents?"

Holtzmann cocked her head slightly. "Aside from the extreme fuzziness and eccentricity value?"

"Yeah. Because didn't you have those voles or something as a kid?"

Holtzmann perked up, looking delighted Erin had remembered that little factoid about her. "Yeah. Well, we weren't allowed to have pets when I was a kid. One of my siblings had pretty bad allergies and there were enough of us my parents didn't really want another mouth to feed. So, since it was crowded anyway, I spent most of my days playing outside in the woods, where nobody cared what you were doing. We had a bunch of voles nearby and when an owl got their mom, I started raising them."

As with most of Holtz's stories about her past, there were whispers of hints and details that made Erin uneasy, but they were too vague to pin down, so Erin let it go for now and focused on the point of the anecdote, imagining a young Holtzmann with a litter of baby voles.

"I got pretty good with them. Reintroduced the babies with one of the local colonies and got to hang around. I could develop hypotheses, set up experiments, observe social structures…" She smiled wistfully. "It was a great year. Until they reproduced so fast they outcompeted the rest of the species on the island I relocated 'em to and caused an ecological catastrophe. The Fish and Wildlife officers were noooot happy about that one." She turned and gave Erin a grin. "Did you know that was the very first watchlist I got put on?"

"Congratulations?" Erin offered.

"I'll say this for the Feds, they're good at a clean-up and cover up. So," she continued, letting Quark down to explore again, "did you have any pets growing up in the Gilbert household?"

"No," Erin looked down, fiddling with the hem of her flannel top. "My parents thought about getting me a dog once. When things were…really bad and therapy wasn't helping. They thought maybe I'd feel safer having one, but they were kind of worried that my 'night terrors' would scare it to where it accidentally hurt me and I was scared the ghost might hurt the dog, so…" She shrugged.

"Bummer," Holtz said, sincerely.

"But now that things are better, I'm thinking about getting a cat," Erin said, straightening her shoulders.

"Yeah?" Holtz grinned.

"Mm-hm. I haven't actually worked up to…getting the cat yet, but I bought a scratching post last week, so, you know, I'm getting there."

Holtzmann nodded approvingly. "Well, here's to one day having cat-chinchilla playdates."

"It's a date," Erin said, raising an imaginary glass to tap Holtz's.

Holtzmann had frozen and Erin realized exactly what she had said. As she scrambled to come up with a line to laugh it off, she felt something on her leg.

"Erin, move slow," Holtz said, touching her arm to keep her from jumping.

Carefully, Erin looked down and stared. The three chinchillas she had already seen were gray all over with only subtle differences in color. The one who was currently investigating her leg was mostly white with gray ears, paws, and tail. "Is that…?"

"Boson," Holtz said softly. "She usually won't come see new people on a first visit. Told you you were good with them."

Erin beamed, remembering not to try to pet the chinchilla this time. Instead, she just sat back with Holtzmann and watched Boson give her shoelace an exploratory nibble before rejecting it and wandering off to look for food.

They stayed there, talking and giving the chinchillas treats and the new wooden chewing toys Holtz had bought for them, for almost an hour before Erin started yawning.

Holtzmann's eyes widened. "God, such a ding-a-ling, I forgot you still need to get home."

"It's all right," Erin said, swallowing the rest of the yawn. "This has been really fun. Thanks for introducing me to your kids."

"Sorry it was so overdue." She pushed off the floor. "Let me use the little girl's room and then I'll drive you home."

"Sure, sure," Erin got slowly to her feet, feeling how tired she was now that she was standing up again. "Sounds good."

"Hey, if you're really tired, you could just crash here for the night too. You're welcome to the bed; I promise it's clean and pretty safe."

Erin shook her head. "I can't put you out of your bed."

"You wouldn't be," Holtzmann assured her. "I was planning to sleep in here with the girls tonight anyway, reassure them Mommy's home to stay."

Erin frowned, looking at the laminate floor and feeling the overall chilliness of the apartment. "You're just going to sleep curled up on the floor?"

Holtz shrugged. "I've slept in a lot worse places."

Again, Erin decided to push the troubling possibilities that presented out of her mind and instead shook her head, determination rising in her. "Nope, you're not sleeping on the bare floor tonight. You get the chinchillas put away and use the bathroom. Just tell me where your extra blankets and sheets are."

"Extra blankets?" Holtzmann asked, puzzled.

"What you put on your bed while one set's in the wash? Nevermind," she said at Holtz's continued blank stare, "point me toward anything soft and non-hazardous and I'll get you set up."

Ultimately, between the fire blankets, towels, pillows, and, yes, a spare and fairly stale-feeling set of sheets she suspected Holtzmann had forgotten she owned, Erin was able to arrange a reasonable nest where Holtz could sleep with a semblance of humanity and less discomfort for her back. Ah, to be in your thirties again, Erin mused, remembering how she used to be able to sleep anywhere in any pose too.

When Holtzmann came back from the bathroom, she arched her eyebrows at the cozy arrangement Erin had assembled. "Well, look at you making the bed for me."

Erin rolled her eyes at the pun. "Give it a try. Let me know what you think."

Holtzmann switched off the overhead light and switched on a series of soft mood lights stationed throughout the room. She plopped herself onto the makeshift bed, legs akimbo, and let out a groan that made something squirm in Erin's belly. "Oh god."

Erin cleared her throat. "I take it you like it?"

"You're gonna spoil me and make me soft," she murmured, pointing a vaguely accusatory finger though her eyes were closed.

Erin smiled to herself. "Well, that's not necessarily a bad thing. If you're okay then, I'll go get the actual bed ready—"

Holtzmann made a protesting groan, reaching up to catch Erin's right hand and pull her down. "C'mere. Try it."

Not expecting the tug, Erin stumbled down beside Holtz and let herself flop onto the blanket pile. It was a mistake. As soon as she was horizontal, the exhaustion of the day set in and the softness of the blankets overtook her. Between the low lighting, the quiet music, the scurrying of the slightly startled chinchillas, and Holtz's breathing beside her, Erin could feel sleep reaching up to engulf her like quicksand.

"Not gonna be able to get up," she slurred.

"Cool. Stay," Holtz answered, sounding just as close to dozing off.

Erin grunted agreement.

"Oh, 'chillas…nocturnal," Holtzmann murmured. "May be loud…busy."

"Doesn't matter. Too tired."

"'Kay."

It was one of the most peaceful transitions into sleep Erin had ever experienced, her mind settling without resistance, the room so perfect, Holtz's presence somehow so profoundly different than Abby's in the hotel bed the night before. Her last thought before drifting off was relief that Patty wouldn't be there in the morning to find out which of them would turn out to be the hugger.