#forced proximity finger touches and gazing longingly at each other

[bearlytolerant]

Why did I choose to write a slow burn?

To cause the yearning within myself.

[imnotasuperhero]

Tell me you still want me (I’ve been fucking lonely)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: Natasha knew she wanted more than this. And she hoped you did, too.

Or, another requested songdrabble that got out of hand.

Wordcount: 991

A/N: I promised some fluff after the “heartbreaking” previous fic, so yeah.. I hope you enjoy (:

She swore she was over you. And she was making a great work not crumbling in front of you. But when she saw you waiting at the café, she realized she's been fooling herself. 

A tsunami of emotions hit her witch such a force enough to send her to the past. And being honest, she didn't know if she wanted to be rescued. Much less when the smile she saw on your face gave her so much hope.

"You came," you stood up, greeting her.

"I promised you, didn't I?" She patted herself on the back mentally. But the feeling was short-lived.

"I already told you I'm sorry." She could see the guilt in your eyes. 

Oh, those eyes that used to held galaxies in them. Just for her.

"Thank you for coming," you gestured for her to sit.

"I had to," Natasha opted to look over the menu. She didn't want to lose herself in you, again.

The silence had extended for too long and she had to stop herself from fidgeting with the lid of her coffee.

Memories of you both in this same café, acting so differently, invaded her mind making it impossible to refrain from smiling longingly.

"Nat,"

"I'm sorry, what?" She looked up and her heart jumped at the way you were staring at her. 

"I miss you," you vowed, and oh, how she wanted to believe you.

"Why now?" The words surprised her too, but it was too late to stop now. 

"Why not before all this... whatever this is, started?" She gestured between you both.

"I wasn't ready," you muttered. You kept talking before she could counter you.

"Look, I know I screwed it up and you probably don't want me back in that way. But the fact that you came to see me means something is still alive."

Natasha allowed herself a moment. Despite the truth in your words, she wasn't keen on going through the pain again. Poor Wanda had suffered enough, too.

"You've hurt me,"

"And I regret my actions every day of my life," your hand finally moved to grab hers. You smiled when Natasha didn't reject it. 

How could she? How could she deny herself from your touches? 

Her eyes locked on yours. The rational part of her saying you were lying. But she only found regret and... Love. Pure utter love.

She'd recognize that gaze anywhere.

"How do I know you won't leave? I can't quit my job," Natasha asked. You knew she needed reassurance.

"I've grown." You promised. God, you've come a long way. "I'm better than my old self,"

You were glad you were sitting, for you felt yourself tremble under the redhead's stare. That same scrutinizing look she gave you whenever you tried to hide things from her.

"Please? Take me back?" You begged. 

"Let's go for a walk," she commanded. You found yourself standing up and following her. God knows you'd follow her till the end of the world.

You've been walking for the last few minutes in silence. Your heart going a mile per hour at the uncertainty of the situation. The only thing that kept that little flame alive was the fact that she didn't yeet you -which it won't be a rarity since she did it plenty of times whenever she let you train with her. 

"You'll have to win me back."

Your head whiplashed at her words, making you stop in your tracks. 

"Yes," you found yourself nodding at her words. Screw your pride. She was whort it.

***

The next few weeks, you found yourself spending more time with Natasha. You'd make plans to go hiking or on a variety of dates whenever your schedules matched. The feeling of normalcy becoming stronger with every passing moment.  

Sex wasn't the only thing that connected you both.  Not anymore. The random calls at night to get rid of those uncomfortable itches had morphed into long talks at night whenever one of you couldn't sleep. You'd talk about everything and nothing comforting each other until one of you fell asleep. The lingering touches were longer, now.

It was so easy to feel at home again. And you knew you had to nurture this for it to last.

"Of course you'd pick this place," Natasha smiled as you parked the car.

"It felt right," you grabbed the hand on your thing and kissed it before stepping out.

"It does." Natasha grabbed one of the bags and started walking toward your usual spot. "Hurry up," she called, making you laugh.

"Someone is excited," you trotted easily catching her. "If I knew, I'd brought you sooner." Your hand found hers. And your heart fluttered when she intertwined your fingers.

The path to your destination was silent, enjoying the chirping of the birds and basking in the warm sun shining above you. The clean air filling her lungs was gladly welcome.

"Thank you," Natasha spoke when you reached the -secluded- camping area. She didn't try to hide the happiness she felt.

"You're welcome," she was suddenly pulled back to you by your hand.

"Feeling confident. Aren't we?" She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her when you kissed her nose.

Your hands wrapped around her waist. "I am," your bright smile was contagious. 

"You should," she hugged you tightly, enjoying the proximity of your bodies.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked against her neck making her shiver. Your smirk told her you felt it.

Instead of answering, she locked your lips together in a soft kiss. She gave her whole in that kiss, and she knew you did too.

You see, sometimes you needed to allow yourself to grow for something to last. These last few years without each other help you with that. And Natasha couldn't be happier for accepting you back. 

Despite all the bumps your relationship faced -and the ones that are yet to come, she knew it was you. 

It's always been you.

[haughtbreaker]

Memories That Remain CH5

Thank you so much for continuing this journey with us. This chapter is a little more flashback heavy than normal, to get some stuff out of the way. @jaybear1701​ and I  appreciate all the comments we've gotten.

Chapter Summary: Tempers flare and wounds are reopened as the past comes back to haunt Nicole and Waverly and they’re forced to deal with the decisions they made in the past. An intoxicated Wynonna takes things into her own hand.

Also available on AO3

"Where are those happy days? They seem so hard to find I try to reach for you But you have closed your mind"

The knock came just as Nicole was brushing her teeth, one hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep herself from listing side-to-side like a ship in choppy waters. She had called down to the front desk for extra pillows mere minutes ago, and she was mildly surprised by the prompt response. She rinsed out her mouth and spit, wiping her mouth with a white terrycloth towel as she walked to her room door.

She swung it open and stared at a vision.

A gorgeous reverie.

Or perhaps an alcohol-induced hallucination who left Nicole dumbfounded and speechless. All of her abilities to string together coherent thoughts dissipated with all the air in her lungs. She'd had this dream before, many times over the long and lonely years, of finally reuniting with Waverly. Except, in those visions, Waverly was usually clad in much less than a puffy winter coat and jeans. And she usually was smiling.

This Waverly, however, frowned as she took in Nicole. Brown eyes skimmed down the length of Nicole's body, now clad in plaid pajama pants and a white tank top. A shadow of uncertainty ghosted across Waverly's face, still oh so lovely after all these years, before she hardened her features into one of determination. Waverly flipped her long hair over one shoulder. And then she spoke:

"You're an awful long way from Chicago."

Nicole's brows knitted together at Waverly's clipped tone. This most definitely was not a dream. Nicole parted her lips to respond but Waverly beat her to the punch, "Take a wrong turn somewhere?"

The anger in Waverly's voice hit Nicole like flint against steel, sparking a corresponding flame within her.

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be," she said in a lazy drawl after her synapses finally started processing speech again through the haze of inebriation. She wanted to ask how Waverly even knew she was in town, let alone how to find her. But she knew better. Word always did travel fast in that godforsaken town.

"Well, I beg to differ." Waverly crossed her arms with a frown. "You don't belong here."

"Right." Nicole nodded slowly and braced a hand on the door frame.

Waverly stared at Nicole, who tightened her grip on the wood, both to remain upright as the hallway behind Waverly spun and to hold back her temper. It didn't work quite as well as she hoped. Nicole now had confirmation that Whitney was telling the truth, and that Waverly really hadn't invited her to the wedding. She understood how her presence would be jarring for Waverly. And yet, her stomach still churned in agitation. She'd be damned if she let Waverly start shit when Nicole was keeping to herself and minding her own business.

"I don't belong here," Nicole repeated. "Says the person standing outside of my hotel room uninvited."

"Don't." Waverly clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing. "You don't get to do that."

"Do what? Travel? Stay in a hotel?"

"You know damn well what!" Waverly's outburst took them both by surprise and Nicole, despite a strong desire to continue needling Waverly, backed down, her ire deflating somewhat. This wasn't what Nicole wanted. Even if they couldn't make amends, Nicole at least didn't want them to hurt each other more than they already had.

"Waverly," Nicole sighed, noting the way Waverly's nostrils flared slightly at the sound of her name. "I'm not here to…" She shook her head and instantly regretted it when her pulse pounded in her temples. "I'm here on business," she deflected, remembering Whitney's plea. "We're both adults. We can stay out of each other's way."

That seemed to appease Waverly, who nodded once. "Fine." She stepped into Nicole's space and Nicole resisted the urge to step back. "Don't get any ideas and we'll be copacetic. Understood?"

Nicole held her ground. "Understood."

"Good."

"Great." Nicole refused to break eye contact even as Waverly's perfume invaded her senses, the scent of wildflowers and honey leaving her dizzier than the whiskey she had consumed. All the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end from their proximity. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she swore Waverly's gaze dipped briefly to her lips before someone cleared his throat behind them, causing Waverly to back away quickly and Nicole to stand straighter.

They both turned their heads toward Randy Nedley, balancing three pillows on his arms.

"Sorry for interruptin', Ms. Waverly, Ms. Nicole," Randy said bashfully.

"Not at all, Randy," Waverly said, moving to his side. "I was just about to leave." She gently clapped Randy's shoulder. "Tell your mama to call me later." With one last borderline glare at Nicole, she walked away down the hall.

"Here're the extra pillows you wanted." Randy handed the stack to Nicole as Waverly disappeared around the corner. Waverly didn't once look back and Nicole felt a pang of disappointment.

"Thanks Randy." Nicole accepted them with a grateful nod.

"Never knew anyone who needed seven pillows before."

"Bad back," Nicole lied.

"Huh." Randy shrugged. "Well, sleep well. Lemme know if you need anythin' else."

Nicole bid Randy adieu and, slightly shaky, carried the pillows to one side of the queen bed. Heart heavy, she arranged them in a line underneath the blanket. Truth was, she couldn't sleep without them stacked in a form that would feel solid to her right, where a certain someone used to lay. A certain someone who told her in no uncertain terms that she wanted nothing to do with Nicole.

"She won't talk to me," Nicole confessed to Wynonna as they sat on the porch swing of the Earp Homestead. Her eyes trailed longingly after Waverly, who shrunk smaller and smaller the farther she walked away from the house until she disappeared past the early summer thickets.

She won't even let me touch her, Nicole added silently, pretty sure Wynonna wouldn't be too keen on hearing that particular aspect of her sister's love life.

Wynonna took a long swig from her bottle of Macallan. The liquid sloshed against the glass as she tipped her head back. She had "liberated" the expensive liquor from a geriatric townie who turned out to be Revenant #43. Or was it #44? It was getting harder and harder for Nicole to keep track. Another day, another monster. Each one bleeding into the next with no end in sight.

"Just give her some time." Wynonna kicked her feet up and rested them on the porch railing, causing the swing's rusted chain to squeak in protest. Her boots scraped off some of the wood's already peeling paint. "Earps are no strangers to loss. This pregnancy failure thing… it'll pass." She handed the bottle to Nicole, who reluctantly accepted it. "She'll come 'round."

Nicole settled back into the swing, the slats digging painfully between her shoulder blades. She brought the bottle to her lips and swallowed down her next question: What if she doesn't? She was too afraid of the answer.

As the elevator doors closed, Waverly had to brace herself against the elevator wall, struggling to breathe as she wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't let herself fall apart. She couldn't let herself lose it, not when she still had to get through the lobby and to her car. Not when she was certain her cries could still be heard from the fourth floor.

Instead, she hugged herself tight as the elevator hit the ground floor, keeping her head down as she crossed the lobby. She didn't look up, didn't care to see if anyone noticed how close to the edge she was, how easily it would be to topple right over if she wasn't careful.

Stepping out the door, she felt the bitter cold nipping at her cheeks where tears had begun to fall. By the time she slipped into her car, she was shaking. Not from the cold, but from the emotions that were threatening to consume her, a void that had formed 20 years ago suddenly consuming her.

She'd been so good at hiding it from everyone, been so used to making sure Whitney never saw her crying. But she was so fucking tired. She was tired of hurting, tired of hiding, but most of all she was tired of being alone.

That was really why she'd done it, that last time. Even with Nicole gone, Waverly had been mad, but she hadn't been ready to lose her just yet. So when the clinic had called her, reminding her about an appointment that had been set up months before, she'd known that even if she could just have a small part of Nicole still in her life...

"Sorry, the number you are trying to reach is out of service. Please check the number and dial again."

Sitting in her Jeep, Waverly cursed and hung up the phone, feeling as foolish as she always felt whenever she dialed Nicole's disconnected number. It was a futile endeavor. She knew it. And yet she couldn't stop herself from trying one more time, and being disappointed yet again. She tucked her phone in her jacket pocket and looked up, willing herself to get out and approach the glass double doors of the nondescript office building. She had done so three times already, and each time she promptly hopped backed into her car. Her fingers were numb and she shivered when she buried her face in her hands. Why did she decide to do this? Why did she think this was a good idea?

She should have told Wynonna about what she was doing. Or Gus. Anyone. Just so she didn't have to do it alone. But she knew they would have tried to talk sense into her, or worse, stop her. And even if they had agreed to support her, Waverly also knew, despite her love for them both, that they would be pale substitutes for the person who should have been by her side, the person Waverly thought had been the one.

Waverly subconsciously swiped her thumb against the base of her left ring finger, an ache settling beneath her ribs at how wrong it felt without the ring that had adorned it for several months. She thought she would have gotten used to it by now. But she hadn't. And she wasn't sure if she ever would. She was about to insert her keys back into the ignition when someone tapped lightly on her window.

On the other side stood Jo Porter, a middle aged nurse in bright Care Bear scrubs. Waverly rolled down her window and plastered on a polite smile.

"Morning Jo," Waverly greeted.

"Hey there, darlin'!" Jo smiled widely, like she always did. The early morning sun highlighted the silver interspersed in her short blonde hair. Jo's eyes slid to the empty seat next to Waverly, but didn't comment on it. Jo used to ask after Nicole. Like nearly everyone else in Purgatory, Jo had been quite fond of Nicole. But after Waverly had shown up to all of her appointments by herself, Jo had thankfully put two-and-two together and stopped asking about the missing deputy. "Big day. You ready?"

No! Waverly wanted to shout. She wasn't ready. Probably would never be ready. But she nodded nevertheless, reluctant and slow, and slipped out of the Jeep.

Jo regaled her with stories about her weekend antiquing up in the big city. Waverly listened politely, humming and asking questions at the appropriate moments. All the while she ignored the fact that Nicole should have been there with a steadying hand at the small of Waverly's back as they walked into the clinic. Should have been there to lead Waverly to an exam room in the back, and help her out of her clothes and into a thin, drafty medical gown; to rub warmth into her arms and chase away the goosebumps prickling across her skin from nerves and the chilly antiseptic air; to hold her hand and kiss her knuckles as Jo entered the room to tell her only one of the last four frozen eggs had fertilized into a perfect, grade A embryo.

"Which egg?" Waverly asked as she looked at the black-and-white printout of the blastocyst that would be transferred to her womb. She lightly traced the circles within a circle with the tips of her fingers. They always reminded her of bubbles clumped together. Bubbles that would one day become a living, breathing person, if Waverly was lucky.

Jo hesitated. "Does it really matter, dear? This is gonna be the one, I know it. Third time's the charm."

Waverly closed her eyes. That was all she needed to hear to know just whose baby was in the photo. "Could I have a few minutes?" As much as she tried, she couldn't keep her voice from trembling.

"Of course, dear." Jo ran a soothing hand up and down her back. "Just come on out when you're ready."

Jo left and Waverly let out a soft sob. The picture in her hand shook as she leaned against the exam table, her legs weak. She had never felt so torn in her life, simultaneously happy and hopeful that she'd finally get the chance to bring a life into the world, but also fearful about having to do it on her own. She allowed herself a few minutes of self-pity to grieve, to get as much of it out of her system as possible before she faced Jo and her doctor again.

She gazed at her jacket draped over the back of a chair. Her cellphone was tucked in its pocket. Waverly was tempted, oh so tempted, to fish it out and call Nicole one last time. But she didn't. Instead, she took several deep breaths to calm herself. She pulled out some tissues from the box on a window ledge, wiped her face, and blew her nose. And then she looked at the picture again.

"It's just gonna be you and me, Baby Haught," she whispered.

Lifting the image up, she pressed her lips to it and somehow managed to subdue a fresh wave of sadness. With one last deep breath, she walked out, head held high, ready to face whatever came her way.

Tucking her flask into her leather jacket, Wynonna slipped off her motorcycle, taking a moment to stabilize herself. With a sniffle, she shook her body out, shaking out the jitters that riding a motorcycle had set in her. It felt like it had taken Waverly forever to leave, and Wynonna didn't dare do what she was about to do while her sister was within hearing range.

"Ok, freezing my lady nubs off." She grumbled as she quickly entered the hotel. She let her eyes rake over the interior, the sound of soothing muzak making her nauseous… ok so it was probably the alcohol poisoning she would likely endure soon. She spotted her target and made a beeline for the red-suited bellhop, spinning him around. "Ok, Horney…."

"Randy." He squeaked out.

"What's the difference?" Wynonna blinked. "Nevermind. Take me to…"

"Miss Haught?" He spoke up. His eyes were wide with fear, his frame shaking just slightly.

Wynonna's brows furrowed. "Yeah. How did you…"

"Everyone seems to be causin' a fuss over her." Randy shook his head. "Room 407."

"Good boy." Wynonna reached up to straighten his slightly ajar hat before pushing him away. She licked her lips, tasting the bitterness of the vodka Waverly had left her as she made her way to the elevator. It wasn't the smartest idea she'd had, getting on a bike in the middle of winter, let alone in her inebriated state, but the moment Waverly left, her eyes had fallen on the old bike, as if fate were trying to tell her something.

Judging by how short of a time Waverly had been upstairs, she doubted there had been much that transpired between them. She also knew Waverly would kill her if she knew she was there.

"What are you doing?" Wynonna looked up as her phone was snatched off the table.

Waverly's shoulders were set in anger, but dark circles under her red and puffy eyes spoke to just how much she'd been crying. "I changed my number... again."

"Why?" Wynonna asked cautiously. With Waverly at three months pregnant, she'd learned not to question her sister who had a tendency to go a little off the rails when her moods swung. This would be the second time she changed it since Nicole left and Wynonna was just starting to remember the new number.

"Because…" Waverly pursed her lips, setting Wynonna's phone on the table with a look of certainty. "I've been told by Nicole's ever-so-gracious sister that Nicole would like me to stop calling and while Becky would like to express her heartfelt apologies for my situation, she would prefer my stopping calling over getting a restraining order."

"What?" Wynonna was shocked. That didn't seem like anything Nicole would support. "Did you even tell her you were pregnant?"

"I wanted to tell Nicole directly but she's not calling me back…" Waverly's fingers twitched as she looked up at the liquor shelf, her jaw clenching before she looked down at her stomach that was just starting to show. "Believe me, I told Becky that if she ever wants to be a part of her daughter's life, Nicole knows exactly where we live."

"Or son." Wynonna offered, getting a glare in response. "Daughter...definitely daughter." She held up both hands in surrender. "You know… I do work for the US Marshals…" She ran a fingertip around the edge of her empty teacup, not daring to refill it with whiskey lest she get an earful from her begrudgingly sober sister. "I could probably get you her contact info… you know… I mean Dolls gets these files somehow…How hard could it be?"

Waverly shook her head, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. "She's made her choice." She spoke softly as she sat down at the dinner table, her hand resting on her stomach as she let her thumb stroke the material of her shirt softly.

Wynonna tugged her jacket down a bit as she stepped out of the elevator, staring at the sign for a moment before she figured out which way to turn. "Shitty ass hotel," she commented, walking down the hallway. The numbers were a little blurrier than they should have been but it took all her effort to remember what she was looking for. "40...40...fuck…" She suddenly realized she'd forgotten exactly what door and settled on the one at the end of the hall, rapping her knuckles against the door. "Haught! Open the damn door!" She called out when her knocks went unanswered.

Curling her hand into a fist, she began to pound on the wood. "Wake your ass up, Nicole!"

The door she was pounding on suddenly opened, drawing the privacy chain taunt. "Look lady…" a short balding man gave her a dour look, his mustache drawn down in a frown. "I have no idea who yer lookin' for, but ain't no one named Nicole here."

Wynonna stepped back, confusion in her eyes. "Shit. Sorry…" When the door across the hall opened, revealing a very unamused Nicole, Wynonna gave him an apologetic smile. "Super my bad. Sorry."

Despite her dishevelled look, Nicole didn't argue as Wynonna slipped into her room. Instead she just raised a hand in apology to the room across from her own before shutting the door and turning to Wynonna. "Was there a public announcement I was in town somewhere?" She spoke in a monotone voice. "Is there a line of people out there waiting to kick my ass?"

Wynonna looked around the room, noting the way red eyes followed her as she poked around. "It's a little early to hit the hay isn't it?" She'd noticed the way Nicole was swaying slightly standing there, and for a moment was glad to see her a bit unkempt. She wasn't exactly able to handle liquor like the Earps could, never was able to. "But I guess you've got an early flight back to Chicago tomorrow right?"

"No actually I don't, but I do have an appointment with breakfast." Nicole ran a hand through her hair, sighing softly before slipping on the complimentary robe and tying off the sash. "What are you doing here, Wynonna?"

Moving to the small condiment table, Wynonna lifted a printed menu for the collection of mini bottles in the bar, noticing the hefty price of each. Unrepentantly, she picked up the small bottle of Jack, twisting off the top before Nicole could stop her. "Long time no see, Haught."

Nicole snorted, arms cruising over her chest. "I'm really tired right now. Can you please just...Don't start."

"Start? What's there to start?" Something strange caught Wynonna's eye and she blinked, momentarily nonplussed. Her fingers closed over cardstock as she turned to face Nicole, tucking the clue into her pants as she downed the contents of the bottle. "Strange, you comin' around here… particularly now… aren't you some fancy lawyer now?" She'd noticed the small collection of jewelry on the dresser and the neatly pressed clothes in the open closet. "Shouldn't you be in Chicago?"

An unamused eyebrow rose. "I don't always choose the cases I work on."

"What case?"

Nicole clicked her tongue. "See, I can't really tell you that. Years with the Black Badge didn't teach you about attorney-client privilege?" Only then did her mind process what was said. "How did you know I was a lawyer?"

Wynonna canted her head to the side before snorting. "You know I was never one for rules." She shrugged, noticing the way Nicole took a seat on the edge of her bed, her fingertips smoothing back the blanket. She didn't comment on the way half the bed was filled with pillows - she didn't ignore it either. "One thing I did learn with Black Badge was… how to find someone."

HONK! Wynonna jumped as she accidentally hit the center of the steering wheel while stripping out of her leather jacket. It was the middle of Summer and despite the dark skies, she was getting sick of the unbearable heat. She didn't know how Americans dealt with temperatures that could hit so high.

Lifting up the cheap pair of binoculars she'd purchased at a bargain store, Wynonna could get a good view of the restaurant. It had taken a moment to find Nicole, having not expected her to have dyed her hair brown and trimmed to shoulder-length, but once she did, she was shocked. Gone was the town sheriff, the Black Badge deputy that could kick a door down without a second thought. In her place was a sophisticated lawyer, dressed in a sleek black dress, just enough jewelry to took elegant as she sipped her glass of wine. That wasn't the shocking part.

The shocking part was the woman sitting across from Nicole. Waif thin, tall, and glaringly blonde, she was everything Waverly wasn't, and yet Nicole leaned in, saying something that was apparently funny, both women laughing.

This would be the perfect time to interrupt, Wynonna decided. "Nothing ruins a date like baby mama drama." She laughed to herself just before the passenger side door opened. "What the…" She paused as a familiar form slipped in, giving her a guarded look. "Oh well… hey there Dolls." She could tell by his expression that she was in trouble… that and the fact that he'd followed her to Chicago.

"Deputy Earp…" Dolls always used the title when he was aggravated, "it would be in your best interest to just… drive away."

Wynonna's eyes narrowed. That was the last thing she wanted to do. "How did you know where I'd be?"

Dolls took the binoculars away from her, tossing it on the back seat before he indicated the starter. "Do you honestly think someone digging up info on a fellow agent wouldn't ring a bell somewhere?" His voice was laden with irritation and disbelief. "Wynonna. Drive." He commanded.

Wynonna growled as she started the car. "I thought she wasn't an agent anymore."

"Agent Haught's status is none of your business."

"Yeah well you know Waverly is pregnant with her baby, right?"

Dolls gave her an emotionless look. Had he known? He didn't looked surprised, much to Wynonna's aggravation. "Look…" He shook his head. "Waverly wouldn't want you here."

Wynonna winced. "You don't know that." It was so true.

"Yes I do, and so do you." Finally his voice grew softer, the one that always got Wynonna's compliance. "Wynonna… please… just drive."

She didn't offer any arguments. Couldn't think of any. Instead she just did as he said, starting the car.

"I know all about you, working with mommy and daddy at the big law firm." Wynonna snorted. "You've made quite a name for yourself." She leaned against the dresser, arms crossing over her chest.

Nicole shrugged. "You would think that if anyone understood the pressure of family legacies, it would be an Earp."

Wynonna had to give her that. "You're right…" There was a part of her that missed the friend she'd made 20-something years ago. Years of fighting together and she and Nicole had bonded to the point that Wynonna might have called her a best friend at one time, but the woman in front of her was barely recognizable.

So while there was a part of her that wanted to extend that welcome, the hand of friendship, it was overshadowed by the part of her that was loyal to her blood. That was the part of her that remembered what it was like having to pick up the pieces of Waverly that had been left behind, trying to glue her back together.

Wynonna paused as she came down the stairs, having heard what sounded like a sniffle on top of the sound of babbling gibberish she'd gotten used to the past 6 months. Stepping into the living room, she found Waverly sitting on the floor, knees hugged to her chest as she watched Whitney swatting away at dangling toys that hung above her.

At six months old, Whitney was finally at that age where she could entertain herself, gumming anything and everything she could find. "Hey Baby Girl...ssss." She corrected herself.

Waverly started, her hand coming up to quickly wipe away the tears. "Hey!" She put on a smile that conveyed more sadness than anything else. "I thought you were going into the city."

Having heard her favorite person's voice, Whitney squealed, using her new ability to roll onto her stomach and beginning to wiggle her way towards Wynonna, having not exactly figured out how to crawl just yet.

"Dolls decided to investigate another lead." Wynonna smirked, reaching out only to be stopped by Waverly's voice.

"Did you wash your hands?" Waverly asked accusingly.

"Of course I did." Wynonna rolled her eyes before scooping up the infant. "Hey Sweet Cheeks." She grimaced as she got a headbutt to the chin. "Ow. Easy there. You're a little too young for those Earp fighting skills to start coming in." It took a second before she realized what she said and saw Waverly's eyes begin to shake with emotion. "Waverly…"

"It's fine." Waverly waved her off, resting her chin on her knees as she watched Wynonna trying to untangle a small fist from her hair. "She just…" she shook her head. "She looks so much like her, Wynonna."

"What?" Wynonna snorted. "No way. Look at these cheeks."

"Look at that hair."

It was unavoidable, the soft auburn hair that was just beginning to curl at the tips. And her tiny Nicole ears. At least that's what Waverly had called them. Waverly had once said they were exact replicas of Nicole's ears. Wynonna wasn't sure about that. She'd never noticed.

Whitney was turning out to be everything Waverly had wanted, as close a replica as possible to Nicole

"This hair?" Wynonna pressed a kiss to the crown of Whitney's head before hugging her close. "It'll darken." Scooting over, she wrapped an arm around Waverly, pulling her in for a hug.

Finally Waverly broke, burying her face in Wynonna's shoulder. "I don't know if I can do this alone."

Wynonna awkwardly shifted Whitney so she could more easily hug Waverly. "Hey. You're not going to do this alone." She held the hug as long as a wiggling infant would allow before pulling back. "You have me and Gus… Sometimes Doc and Dolls…" When Waverly gave her a look, she laughed. "Ok… you have me and Gus. We're always going to be here for you."

Even if Nicole wasn't, her mind completed.

Wynonna looked around the room once more, at the expensive jewelry and rich clothes, snorting softly. "Maybe it was a good thing you left." When Nicole didn't respond, she moved to the door, pausing with her hand on the knob. "You've got the job, and the money, and no doubt the fancy corner office, but really what else do you have?" Turning, she saw Nicole staring at the ground, not even daring to look up.

"Maybe once upon a time, I would have considered you a sister… but family doesn't just pick up and leave when shit hits the fan." Wynonna swallowed, knowing she was maybe going too far, but she never got to say her peace 20 years ago and she was damned if she wasn't going to take the opportunity now. "But you know what? We broke the curse without you. Purgatory survived without you. And Waverly? She's done just fine without you too. They both have." She didn't wait for a response, didn't give Nicole the opportunity to respond as she opened the door and walked out.