#heard from someone later that he apparently ran for pres of the club????? huh???????????

[pepper-steam-milkshake]

hey yall. what if potential heathers fyolai art post tonight

[earpdearp]

not just a secret

Wherein Waverly helps out on an actual BBD operation before enjoying an ordinary, home-cooked meal with Nicole in their otherwise chaotic Purgatory life. Part of an on-going exploration of how WayHaught is both friendship and relationship. 

Takes place during early 1x10, pre-Willa. Mentions events in the show, Road to Purgatory, and one of my previous Just Friends fics, “just coffee.”

Also on AO3. Approximately 7,492 words.

Other WayHaught “not just friends” fics in this series: not just any first date

Walking the familiar hall on the way to the BBD office, a gruff stage-whisper jarred Waverly Earp out of her daze. She had been following close behind Wynonna, but slowed her gait so that she could backtrack to the Sheriff’s Department double doors.

“…Hey!” Nicole Haught whisper-yelled again from her seat at the front desk. The corded desk phone was held to the woman’s ear, her hand covering the mouthpiece. Nicole’s dimpled smile was nothing less than radiant.

Waverly chewed her cheek as she eyeballed her sister’s retreating back.

Just one minute couldn’t hurt.

She sidestepped over to the front desk with a small finger-wave. “Hey,” Waverly whispered back. “What are you doing?” She made a thumb-and-pinky phone pantomime at Nicole.

An eyeroll as Nicole held the phone a little further from her ear. “Oh, I’m just on hold with the county trying to get some files sent over for Nedley… I’ve seen those archives. I think the last time that place was organized was when Wyatt Earp was still around,” Nicole deadpanned with a mock-scowl.

But Nicole brightened as she nodded in the direction of the Black Badge Division office. “Y’all workin’ on a case today? I was gonna go for a coffee run in a minute… if I ever get off the phone.” She made a dramatic, wide-eyed frown and tapped at the notepad in front of her. A short list of coffee orders was already started for Sheriff Nedley, Officer Lonnie, and a few of the courthouse clerks. Question marks could be seen next to “Waverly, Wynonna, and Grumpy.”

Waverly exhaled an excited breath. “Ohhh! That would be amazing! Yea, we’re… in the middle of an operation.” She threw a sly grin with a cocky eyebrow. “All very hush-hush.”

“Uh huh,” Nicole rolled her eyes good-naturedly this time. “The usual…(s)? I saw Wynonna go by. Is Dolls in, too?” She gestured with her chin after stumbling over the plural of “usual.”

Minute’s probably up.

“Yes please! And I’ll go check!” Waverly backed away from the desk with a two-fingered salute, but not before Nicole reached out and ran her fingers down Waverly’s wrist.

Nicole’s eyes sparkled back before she returned to the other end of the call with a series of slow, professional “Yes… yes… yes” responses.

Waverly couldn’t help but sigh and smile as she jogged back down the hall to catch up to Wynonna. Her fingertips subconsciously mimicked the gesture Nicole had done on her wrist, relishing the rekindled goosebumps.

Scurrying, she managed to slip inside that glass door just as Wynonna was chastising Dolls about his attempts at being cool. The Deputy Marshal was leaning back in a swivel chair, fat headphones balanced over his temples, a wide grin on his scruffy face.

“Are you saying we’re in?” Waverly interrupted, her fists balled with hope.

After a few theatric taps on his laptop, Dolls spun back towards the two Earps with a flourishing hand motion.

The low, menacing voice of Bobo Del Rey came in over the laptop speakers: [“…Those Earp sisters may be bangable, but they’re a boil on my scrotum…”]

“Hey!” Waverly squawked, offended, before rushing forward and claiming the headphones from Dolls. “…we’re in!”

The prospect of surveillance was actually exciting for Waverly.

Finally: a change of pace from research or translations. Plus, it had been Waverly’s quick-thinking in the bar to use the bronze boot tip jar to place the listening device, so she’d already claimed dibs against Wynonna on the walk over to the municipal building.

“All yours, sis,” Wynonna had said flatly, hands raised in mock-surrender. “I’d rather be shooting the Revs than listening to them yammer about whatever it is they yammer about, anyway. Who’s the ugliest, cooking recipes and the latest spring fashions, I’m sure.” Rolling her eyes, she had made a jerk-off hand motion for emphasis.

Hmph.

Fortunately, Dolls didn’t fight Waverly for control of the headphones.

Unfortunately, what amounted to Revenant surveillance ended up being a bunch of unflattering one-upsmanship among the other Rev-heads about what they were gonna do about the Earp Heir and her Goddamn gun. (And, thankfully, just some mild talk about Waverly’s boobs; she managed to escape their more graphic/hostile scenarios.)

Ugh. Not any less disgusting knowing they’re not human, though.

While Dolls and Wynonna quietly argued over the Earp Sister Joint Operation at Shorty’s, Waverly snuck out her phone to confirm in a text to Nicole that Dolls was indeed in attendance.

[Nicole says: “Got it. And I finally got off that call. Next time I need to bring a book”]

[Waverly says: “I can lend you one when I get a break! I always keep one handy”]

She eyeballed her large purse hanging on the coat rack and tried to remember what all she had tucked away.

A Wyatt Earp retrospective about his early years? Ehhhh, maybe.

A demonology book about cult symbols? …Probably not what she’s looking for.

Oh! What about that trashy western from Gus’s old shelves?

Aw… Gus… God, I’m gonna miss her.

Another incoming text made her phone vibrate on the table.

[Nicole says: “That’d be wonderful. Goin for a coffee run now, should be back in 30 with something tall and caffeinated”]

Waverly resisted the urge to text back “You mean you?” But she just bit her lip and set her phone aside after a brief thank-you. She returned to her headphones and notepad, jotting down any significant names or places the Revenants discussed.

The Heir debate eventually decayed into just the clank of pool balls and the scraping of stools along with what the Revenants had been up to the night before. There was a brief mention of the Sheriff’s Department that piqued Waverly’s interest.

Apparently, someone had called the cops when the Revs first moved in and started ripping down some (of Waverly’s!) Wyatt Earp memorabilia. But it was Lonnie who had responded to the call, and thankfully that sweet man had accepted Bobo’s bullshit excuse that “the new owners were just doing some late-night renovating” without incident.

I wonder what Nicole would have done?

There was a gentle rapping of knuckles at the office door that Waverly heard through the lull in conversation. Dolls and Wynonna, who had been studying a pushpin-laden cork board of known Revenants spotted at Shorty’s, closed the doors to their little cabinet before Wynonna opened the door.

Speaking of Nicole, the young Officer smiled broadly as she brandished a drink carrier holding three tall to-go coffee cups.

Wynonna was baffled but grateful as she accepted the tray. “Damn, Haught. You’re a mind-reader. I was jonesing for a coffee fix.” She pre-emptively slapped Dolls on the arm. “And don’t be a dick this time.”

The man’s back was to Waverly, but she heard Dolls sigh. “…I literally didn’t say anything.”

Nicole said jovially, “Hey, don’t worry about it. Was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d hook y’all up.” Her eyes only flicked to Waverly, but she gave a significant glance at one particular cup.

The elder Earp squinted at Nicole with a smirk. “I can’t speak for the Boss Man here, but you’re damn well in my good graces. And we need to have another drink again sometime. Tie one off for the Serial Killer Survivor club.” She offered an outstretched fist, which Nicole bumped back with an airy laugh.

“Again?” Waverly tilted her head, but chewed her cheek against the question.

Clearing his throat, Dolls grabbed a cup. He said pointedly, “Thank you, Officer Haught.” Then stood impassively waiting for Nicole to leave.

At his side, Wynonna shot him a disapproving glare and sighed. Waverly heard her sister mumble a faint, “So close, Dolls.”

Taking the hint, Nicole retreated back behind the glass door. But she managed to shoot Waverly a small smile at the last second when Dolls and Wynonna returned to their corkboard.

Waverly leaned over to reach for the last cup that bore her name surrounded by a pair of small stars. Curious, she returned to her work station, but not before she popped off the top to inspect the coffee.

Inside, on top of the thin layer of cappuccino foam, was a small star etched in cocoa powder.

Waverly had to bite her lower lip hard, which her sister noticed. But Wynonna wasn’t as perceptive as she thought she was. “Did she—they—screw up your order?”

“Huh? Oh! No, it’s perfect,” Waverly said as she replaced the lid and took a deep sip.

Really perfect.

She waited a few minutes for Wynonna and Dolls to continue studying their hit-list of Revenants before sending a pair of texts back to Nicole: the first was a single gold star, the second a red kiss.

A moment later, an answering red kiss emoji. She smiled to herself and settled back into her headphones.

Hours ticked by, as did the fast food bags and takeout coffees. Surveillance was such tedious, boring work. Waverly massaged a crick in her lower back. She could really go for some yoga stretches, but didn’t think Dolls would be too keen on either the interruption or the display.

And Waverly wasn’t sure what she had thought century-old undead demons would talk about all day, but how much they drank and who sucked the worst at cards was not in her top five. No master plan soliloquies from Bobo, no exciting in-fighting they could exploit, no discussion of setbacks or weaknesses or fears (other than their hatred of all things Earp).

Scowling, Waverly threw the headphones down in disgust around Hour 6 at the latest dick-measuring banter. “Literally all they’re talking about is how many pints they can chug. …Ugh. Men are all the same, even the demonic ones.” When she leaned up to finally stretch, she felt a fullness in her belly that she had been struggling to ignore.

Ugh.

Heading for the door, Waverly said, “Surveillance: mucho taxing on my bladder.”

Wynonna slapped her ass as she went by, muttering a soft, “You did good, kid.”

After exiting the restroom refreshed, Waverly shot a glance over at the BBD office. She decided against returning right away.

I’ve earned a little break, considering I had to listen to a bunch of grown men bitch about my sister for like six hours. …It’s like junior high all over again.

Waverly stole a glance in the Sheriff’s Department, which was almost empty. Only Nicole sat at her desk, an older Purgatorian that Waverly didn’t recognize sitting across from her. Checking her watch, it was indeed once again Happy Hour At Shorty’s for Nedley.

I can wait.

Striding through the desk divider like she belonged there, Waverly went over to the supply shelf to grab a large yellow notepad. She began jotting down a list of research topics she planned on hitting up later. Some of the Revenants mentioned during surveillance were new names to add to Waverly’s master rolodex. Family histories, past crimes, how Wyatt killed them… the usual rabbit hole(s) for research gathering.

Nicole’s polite, professional voice jarred Waverly from her thoughts. “Can I help you?”

She started to grin in response, but Waverly reigned it in when she noticed a) the strained look in Nicole’s eyes and b) the older gentleman still sitting at her desk.

Waverly settled on clearing her throat with a demure glance downward. “Oh, uh, yes. Yes, Officer. I was—I was hoping to fill out a police report? Something was… stolen?” Her hand went subconsciously to her bare neck.

Willa’s favorite necklace. I can’t believe Bobo took that from me.

And Shorty’s. And all the Wyatt Earp stuff I’d collected. I stuck out so many bidding wars for some of that stuff! And that sonofabi—

“Of course,” Nicole replied, warm and cordial. “Let me just finish up with Mr. Hamilton here and I’ll be right with you.”

“I’ll wait!” Waverly trilled a little too cheerfully. But it worked: Nicole smiled widely before returning to the older man. Her eyes had a frustrated glaze to them and her smile got noticeably tight.

Keeping it super casual, Waverly resumed her focused note-taking for another minute. Though she did steal occasional glances over at Nicole, who finally seemed to be wrapping up her conversation.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Hamilton, but you’ll have to take it up with Judge Cryderman.”

Mr. Hamilton scowled, indignant. “I dunno why you can’t let this slide this time.”

“It’s a fourth strike on a DUI, Mr. Hamilton,” Nicole reminded him as she slapped the file folder shut on her desk.

But the man finally—finally—got up from his seat. The moment his back was turned, Nicole mouthed at Waverly “Oh my God save me he’s been here for over an hour” before standing up with Mr. Hamilton. “…I promise I’ll let Sheriff Nedley know you were here, sir.”

Mr. Hamilton pulled on the scuffed blazer that was slung over the chair back. “Hmph. Randy needs to relax. Ward wasn’t nearly such a stickler about this shit. …Just let a man drink in peace.”

“It’s not the drinking in peace, it’s the driving,” Nicole muttered.

“What was that?” The man’s head turned, but his expression was disinterested.

“Nothing, I was just showing you out, sir.”

Another sullen “Hmph” from Mr. Hamilton as Nicole escorted him through the divider and pointed him to Judge Cryderman’s door.

It took all of Waverly’s willpower not to snicker. Instead, she continued on her page of notes, hip pressed against the small conference table. Out of the corner of her eye did Waverly keep watching Nicole.

Not saying a word, the other woman swept back over her desk and scooped up the file folder. As she approached Waverly, she added another file from the conference table to her collection. Nicole continued past Waverly and she felt a warm hand circle her wrist. Letting her notepad drop, Waverly shot a wary eye to the empty station as she followed.

Allowing herself to be pulled over to the Sheriff’s open office door, Waverly smiled as she felt Nicole press her against the door frame. A broad smile and brown eyes filled Waverly’s vision as she started to melt into Nicole’s warm breath. She felt lips brush hers and—

An explosive sigh from the entrance made them both jump away.

Wynonna appeared, scowling and drumming her fingers on the counter. Her blue eyes narrowed in confusion. “…Are you guys in Nedley’s office?”

Waverly hugged one side of the door frame while Nicole leaned against the opposite side, the file folder held to her chest in defense. Waverly felt heat on her cheeks and neck. Struggling for words, she gestured aimlessly with her hand.

Nicole exhaled through her cheeks and started stuttering, “Uh… cause when—I…”

“…Yes,” Waverly finally answered with an awkward smile.

But Wynonna didn’t even seem to notice, her eyes shifty and glancing behind her.

She took a deep breath. “OK, here she blows…” The older Earp slapped her open palms on the counter, shoulders twitching awkwardly. “Uhhhh…. Doc and I slept together.” The words fell out of Wynonna’s mouth in a rush, accented by the toss of a hand.

Waverly’s jaw dropped in shock.

“And that’s news? …Really?” Nicole replied with knowing sarcasm.

When she locked eyes with Waverly though, her expression changed to sheepish. “…to you…” Nicole mouthed an expletive just as the department phone rang. She resigned herself to answering it with a grudging “OK” before shuffling back to her desk.

Part of Waverly wanted to grab Nicole for support, but instead she stalked towards her older sister.

Wynonna seemed to sense Waverly’s mood, her glare a half-hearted challenge. “Really? …we’re both grown-ups.”

Waverly sniped back. “Yea, well, one of you is a little more grown-up than the other, don’t you think?” There was so much more she wanted to say, but not with Nicole present. Part of her hated the need for a filter.

Especially considering how badly Waverly wanted to yell at Wynonna right now.

Wynonna’s mouth hung open before she muttered in agreement, “…Little bit.”

“So why are you telling me this now?” Waverly asked.

“Because it’s out there. …Thanks to Bobo.”

“Bobo knows?!”

Shitballs.

“Yes. …and Dolls.” Wynonna trailed off with a scowl.

Oh shitballs.

“Uh-ohhh.” A question crossed Waverly’s mind. “Well… do—do you love Doc?”

Her sister rolled her eyes before turning on her heel to retreat from this conversation. “It was just sex, Waverly. God.”

“That’s not a no!” Waverly called to Wynonna’s departing back.

Waverly stood in the middle of the station, just dumbfounded and hurt and trying to process all this new information. She glanced over at Nicole, who was still on a call. Apologetic brown eyes met Waverly’s. During a break in phone conversation, Nicole mouthed, “I’m so sorry.”

Sighing, Waverly padded back to the BBD office with her yellow notepad in hand. Which… was empty. She returned to the laptop where the transcription software had captured Bobo’s last words to Wynonna before a very abrupt [“Connection Terminated”] error message.

Ah.

Always the dutiful Earp, Waverly decided to enter all her notes into the BBD database before calling it quits. Her mind was craving the distraction, otherwise she would start to dwell on how much it hurt that Wynonna still kept secrets from her.

…Though technically Wynonna wasn’t the only one keeping secrets: Waverly hadn’t told her about Nicole yet. And Wynonna had almost found about that all on her own because they were careless.

She pulled out her phone and sent over a text message.

[Waverly says: “oh my god”]

An almost instantaneous response.

[Nicole says: “Oh my god”]

[Waverly says: “OH MY GOD”]

[Nicole says: “Oh my god”]

[Waverly says: “I thought for sure we had been busted”]

She grinned, her cheeks flushing again at the close call. One of the few times Wynonna’s obliviousness worked in her (their?) favor.

[Nicole says: “Dude also your sister banged Doc”]

Ughhhh.

[Waverly says: “I can’t hear you. LA LA LA LA LA LA LA”]

Working for a little longer, Waverly managed to log the rest of her notes and rip off the page of names. She had a date with the city library in the morning.

Or… I could have a date right now?

[Waverly says: “…Are you free tonight?”]

[Nicole says: “I’m free right now. Finally. Shift is over”]

Waverly bolted upright from her chair. She opened the door just as Nicole had her arm raised to knock on the glass, phone in her other hand. The woman held her Stetson under one arm and a familiar smile on her face.

“Hey,” Waverly said.

“Hey yourself.” Glancing around the hallway, Nicole leaned over to give Waverly a quick, chaste kiss. “…I was gonna head home.” She glanced around the empty BBD office. “You off soon?”

“I’m off now. Walk you to your car?”

Nicole smiled and nodded, holding the door open as Waverly snatched up her own jacket and purse. Flicking off the lights, Waverly locked the door with Wynonna’s spare key.

The distance between them as they trekked down the municipal building hallway was painful for Waverly. She kept stealing glances over to Nicole, who wasn’t helping because she was doing the same damn thing and they were both smiling like idiots.

Nicole started, her tone dry. “So, not that the movie wasn’t great the other night…”

“Whaaat? It was amazing,” Waverly trilled with irony, eyes twinkling.

“Uh huh…” Nicole raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Smiling insincerely, Waverly asked, “What was your favorite part?”

Nicole wrinkled her nose. “The… part—the part where… uh… Just… all of it. It was all so memorable I couldn’t possibly pick.”

“Mine was when the movie ended,” Waverly said with a smirk.

An explosive sigh of relief from Nicole. “Oh thank God, me too.”

Both women chuckled as they crested the front doors into the cold Purgatory evening. The sun was still barely up, but the cloudy sky was darkening into nightfall soon enough.

As they approached the small side parking lot, Nicole turned on her heel to face Waverly.

“What would you say to dinner? My place? I could cook… You could come inside and meet Calamity Jane for real…” Her expression was soft and hopeful.

Waverly smiled. “That… sounds great, actually. Yes, please.”

Nicole gestured with her white cowboy hat. “You’re a vegetarian, right?”

“Yep!” Waverly chirped, but then furrowed her brow. “…wait, how did you know that?”

Tilting her head, Nicole was confused. “You mentioned it? When we had coffee at Shorty’s the first time?”

Waverly’s voice got small. “You remembered that?” A weird, dizzy feeling started rolling around in her chest.

A dimpled smile. “Of course.” Placing her hat on her head, Nicole didn’t seem to notice Waverly’s dazed look. “Pasta okay?”

“It’s—ah—pasta’s perfect.” 

“…are you okay?” Nicole asked as she dug out her car keys, hat tipping with her head.

Clearing her (suddenly thick) throat against that dizzy-chest feeling, Waverly nodded. “…Yea. Should I get some wine? Do you have a preference?”

“Whatever’s your favorite,” Nicole replied warmly, eyes glittering. “I’d love to know what it is. …plus, it’ll give me a chance to change outta work clothes.” She tugged at her uniform collar.

That… was not helping. That weird, heavy feeling lurch harder all of a sudden.

Waverly made deliberate motions to pull open her map app for a refresher on how long it would take to get to Nicole’s place. “…Okay, I’ll head to the liquor store. See you in a bit?”

A cloud of vapor surrounded Nicole’s gentle smile. “I’ll be waiting.”

Her brown eyes scanned the parking lot, but Waverly impatiently surged upward with a deep kiss. She felt Nicole taken aback, but return in kind after a moment. That taste of vanilla was worth it.

The drive to the liquor store gave Waverly a chance to swallow down whatever that tight feeling was. It also gave Wynonna the chance to start texting her.

[Wynonna says: “u @ homestead?”]

Chewing her lip, Waverly debated how much she should tell Wynonna… she settled for vague.

[Waverly says: “No. grabbing dinner. You?”]

[Wynonna says: “almost. goin 2 talk 2 doc”]

She wrinkled her nose.

[Waverly says: “good luck? Go get you some?”]

[Wynonna says: “…..gross, sis. c u @ home later. Love u”]

Short and concise, just like Wynonna always was.

Waverly sighed and scooped up her favorite zinfandel. She also slapped down one of the mini “airplane” bottles of whiskey on the cashier counter, too… something to help calm her agitated nerves.

It was stupid. Wynonna sleeping with Doc shouldn’t bother Waverly… but it did.

Because she should know better? Because there’s something off with him—other than the fact that he’s, y’know, immortal?? I mean, it would actually be par for the course in the weird shit-show that was our lives now…

Her jaw set, Waverly started grinding her teeth. She could feel herself nurturing a bout of little sister spitefulness: she wanted to keep her and Nicole a secret from Wynonna.

See how she likes it.

Plus, Wynonna had made fun of literally everyone Waverly had ever dated… she didn’t want Wynonna poking at this one. This was… special.

And Waverly knew it was childish to feel this way. But part of her liked the intrigue… like maybe if they kept it a secret, everything that was Purgatory and being an Earp wouldn’t/couldn’t touch Nicole. Like it was noble. …Right.

Everything was just… pushing in on Waverly. She didn’t even reach her parking space before she had downed that little 2-ounce whiskey bottle and chucked it into the outside trash.

Bobo taking over Shorty’s. Gus leaving. Wynonna keeping secrets.

Ugh. Why is Purgatory like this?

Before Waverly could start debating if she should bail on dinner to nurse her souring mood, her phone pinged. A new SnapChat message from Nicole.

A tap opened on an image of Nicole, hair down, a ginger cat pressed to her cheek while a wooden spoon balanced in her hand. In the background was a pair of steaming pots on a small stove.

The text overlay read: [“Just started! Can’t wait to see you!”]

Well, that did it.

Waverly sent back a SnapChat of herself holding the brown-bagged wine bottle, her lips forming an “O” of mock-intrigue. [“On my way! Hope you like it!”]

She smiled the entire drive to Nicole’s, which got harder to navigate after the sun set. Because, like most of Purgatory, there weren’t any street lights to help out over those lonely dirt roads. But Waverly’s red Jeep was up to the task and she finally found the right path. There was a light outcropping of trees before the road opened up on a well-lit house alone on a small plot of land.

Headlights swept over Nicole’s familiar white police cruiser, but also her SUV covered in a tarp (with fat snow tires in place). The vehicle’s outline suggested maybe a Tahoe or an Expedition, Waverly couldn’t remember which.

Crunching through the still remaining patches of snow, Waverly approached the house, wine bottle in hand. Nicole’s house was a blue, two-story ranch-style with a broad front porch. On either side of the low porch steps were fallow patches of dirt for flower beds (or maybe a garden?).

Waverly felt a surge of anxiety as she reached the front door. Something about this was… hard to describe.

Big, maybe? Significant? She wasn’t sure, exactly. Something she had to swallow down the nervous knot in her throat against.

After her fingertip found the doorbell, the heavy wooden door opened a few moments later. Dressed in a maroon knit sweater and jeans, Nicole welcomed her with such a crinkling, delighted grin… The knot loosened, letting Waverly breathe.

Nicole beckoned Waverly inside. “Hey! You found me. Did Google Maps take you down that dead-end at Faulkner again?”

“Oh yea, I thought I was gonna drive across someone’s crops. Remind me, Officer, is that like an arrestable thing or more of an apology-slash-fine thing?” Waverly teased, shaking out of her jacket while offering Nicole the wine.

“Depends on who’s farm you drove through,” Nicole retorted dryly. She tucked her hand against in her mouth for a conspiratorial whisper. “Between you and me, someone like Mr. Hamilton probably would have had you shot.” Her smile was apologetic.

Waverly laughed as she wiggled out of her boots and placed them on the mat by the door. “Oh my God what was that about at the station? …or is that like a cop/perp confidentiality thing?” An uncertain see-saw hand motion from Waverly. “I don’t know the rules for that.”

Shaking her head, Nicole inspected the bottle of red wine. “Not a perp… though still probably confidential. We’ll just say he was not a happy camper… especially after he was caught a little too happy… wrapped around a light pole.” Wrinkling her nose for a moment, Nicole then winked at Waverly and changed the subject. “This wine looks great. Wanna break into it now or save it for dinner? Which should be ready in—“ A check of her watch. “—15 minutes.”

“Oh God, now,” Waverly replied a little too quickly. “Er… now. Now would be fine.”

“Okay.” Nicole smiled softly and leaned forward. Brown eyes flicked to Waverly’s lips before returning to her eyes.

Waverly gladly took the hint.

It was a different kiss than most of the ones since the Couch Incident.

Those were always rushed. Stolen. Hidden.

This one was… simple. Patient. Honest.

They both inhaled slightly at the outset, allowing a second for a smile. With a brush of tongue, Waverly savored a much deeper drink of that heady vanilla gloss. Her hand went to the back of Nicole’s neck as she felt a matching hand on her waist, ticklish fingertips skimming her abs. Waverly pulled away with a bashful exhale-laugh.

Nicole just smiled and tucked a loose strand back behind Waverly’s ear. “Welcome to my house. Want a quick tour?”

“Sure.”

Popping the cork off the zinfandel bottle in a smooth motion, Nicole poured them both glasses then clinked hers against Waverly’s.

“A toast?” Nicole asked.

“To?”

Nicole bit her lower lip, thinking a moment before grinning. “To… not being scared anymore?”

Waverly’s answering smile was a wide, slanted, nose-crinkling thing that made her cheeks ache. “To not being scared of us.”

They enjoyed a few slow sips together in silence, the semi-sweet wine (and company) doing much to calm Waverly’s nerves.

Or maybe it was just the whiskey kicking in.

Nicole’s house was cozy. Hardwood floors. Walls awash in blues and lined with shelves. A small desk nestled next to the staircase. Central living area had a small reading chair, a loud-patterned couch (“It came with the house!”), a small wooden coffee table and an entertainment center with a TV. The kitchen was around the corner from the doorway, bubbling stove on one side and wide counter on the other with a small breakfast table in the center. Waverly recognized a few IKEA pillows sprinkled around the room.

Calamity Jane lurked inside a low, boxy shelf. The ginger cat was bigger than Waverly thought she’d be. Honey-golden eyes peered suspiciously at Waverly, but the cat only patiently sniffed her outstretched fingers.

“That’s a warmer welcome than Sheriff Nedley ever got,” Nicole said, favoring the cat with an insincere glare. “Yowling and hissing and wouldn’t get out from under the bed.”

“I’m honored, CJ,” Waverly cooed in a low voice.

Upstairs was a brief glance at Nicole’s room(!), guest bathroom and a study lined with criminal justice books and police procedure manuals.

Waverly’s eyes kept seeking out picture frames, eager to find clues about Nicole’s past. Several smiling graduation photos (university and police academy, respectively). In another she was waving a piece of paper around, victorious over passing her police entrance exam. A smattering of her linking shoulders with fellow academy trainees in various settings (bars, shooting ranges, obstacle courses, etc).

One large frame staggered with photos seemed to be a timeline of some sort of survivalist camp; Nicole alternated between being covered in mud, drenched to the bone, covered in sticks and burrs, bundled and barely recognizable, armored in padded riot gear (red hair poking under a helmet), or clad in a wetsuit surrounded by scuba apparatus.

The air was noticeably colder on the second floor, and Waverly felt her arms pebble with goosebumps. A ringing kitchen timer brought them back downstairs, though Waverly noticed the chill lingered, her discomfort increasing. But Waverly was desperate to make a good first impression and not complain, so she attempted to muscle through it.

“So, what is the chef preparing this evening?” Waverly asked, head tilting in formality.

Nicole emptied the large stockpot of noodles into a colander and Waverly inched closer to the billowing steam to savor the heat. The woman smiled as she gave the second pot a rigorous stir. “Special Haught recipe. It’s a Mediterranean pasta dish, totally vegetarian. And I’ve also got garlic bread in the oven and a small salad.”

Eyeing the saucepan, Waverly made note of a hearty red sauce where mushrooms, artichokes, onions, tomatoes, olives and even capers roiled to the surface.

“Ooo, special recipe. Is there a story behind it?”

“Would you like an epic lie or the more boring truth?” Nicole asked as she mixed in the sauce with the spaghetti noodles and let them simmer together in the stockpot.

“Uh… let’s start with the lie.” Waverly leaned against the breakfast table, arms crossed attentively.

“There I was, in the wilderness, alone, trapped by a sudden thunderstorm…”

Waverly interjected. “Why were you in the wilderness? Which wilderness?”

Nicole made a light-hearted shushing noise with a dismissive hand-wave. “Not important. …Survivalist training for emergency management… So anyway, there I was… so hungry… my food pack had been swept away when I crossed a river. And there, in the middle of a nearby field, I spotted a small house. I could see smoke coming from the chimney. I practically collapsed at the door, cold and freezing. An old woman there made me this very meal. I recovered instantly and made it back to basecamp before the other rookies. Got a medal.”

“Fascinating,” Waverly replied dryly as she sipped her wine. “…and the truth?”

Chuckling, Nicole began doling out portions into oval pasta bowls. “…my grandmother was obsessed with Food Network and HGTV and pretty much spent all day every day trying out recipes from cooking shows. And she made me help when I came over to visit. She called this one ‘Second Date Pasta.’”

“Are you serious?”

A sober nod from Nicole. “I am 100% serious. I already told my lie, remember?”

Waverly made a tight-lipped smile of approval. “How convenient. Is there a Third Date Pasta?”

“I think that’s more of a lasagna. Or maybe a casserole. I don’t know, I’ll have to check the manual.” Pulling out a bundle of foil from the oven, Nicole placed the small loaf of garlic bread into a straw basket. She gestured for Waverly to sit as Nicole finished setting the table.

“There’s a manual?? I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?” Waverly feigned offense.

Nicole laughed as she settled into the opposite chair, clinking her glass against Waverly’s again. “Well… probably not this whole time…”

“Gee thanks.” Waverly winked back before digging in.

It was delicious. The rich sauce worked well with each bite of vegetable, occasionally a burst of salty or sweet breaking through.

Nicole smiled, watching Waverly eat while taking a slow sip of wine. “So? Was Nana Haught onto something?”

“She was. It’s very good,” Waverly smiled back. She paused a moment before asking, “So how much of the epic lie was true?”

An embarrassed, dimpled grin. “I did have to ford a river during training… and I did lose part of my food pack in the process. Got points docked for that… and dropped a few pounds.” A headshake. “But I made it back to basecamp in the top 3, so I did actually get a medal.” She gestured to the wall near the stairs where a small certificate was framed beside a little golden coin nestled in felt.

For the next half hour, they dined at Nicole’s kitchen table. They laughed. They burned through most of Waverly’s wine. Calamity Jane made a brief appearance, deigning Waverly worthy enough to rub against her shins (but not worthy enough to allow her to pet her).

It was… nice.

Stories of their childhoods flowed; skinned knees, embarrassing moments and class subjects (Waverly favored history and literature, Nicole excelled at math).

Waverly found herself avoiding talking about Wynonna… or Willa. Nicole seemed similarly evasive about her own family, her parents a mystery. So, there were still some secrets. But Waverly found herself not feeling too terribly guilty or nosey.

It was more of a sense of… they had time. Time to learn those details. Not everything right this second.

Waverly offered to help clean up, but Nicole refused. She offered her a spot on the (ugly) couch and the DVR remote. They still had wine left… still had time left in the evening.

The chill returned outside the warm kitchen, forcing Waverly to request a blanket. A trip to the hallway closet revealed a stack of various styles, flannels and throws and fleeces. She selected a particularly warm, worn fleece to drape around her shoulders as she sat on the couch. It smelled faintly of Nicole.

Remote in hand, Waverly sifted through Nicole’s DVR, a hallowed window into the woman’s world. What would she find? Trashy reality TV? An obsession with QVC or house-flipper shows? Awful comedies? Horror movies?

There were some sci-fi documentaries about space or the ocean. Another section of police shows like Law & Order and True Detective (of course). A familiar staple in Heartland and Dragon’s Den, though she appeared to be several seasons behind in both. And Waverly was tickled to find old reruns of Street Legal, Due South and The Littlest Hobo in particular saved. She remembered watching some of these episodes on the Homestead next to Wynonna and begging Daddy to let them have a dog.

A few thumb-presses of the remote started a random episode of The Littlest Hobo, the signature German Shepard star appearing in the opening credits.

“Oh, I loved this show. I usually put on reruns when I’m stuck catching up on paperwork to make it more bearable,” Nicole said as she settled in next to Waverly, pouring the last of the wine into their glasses. “This might sound stupid, but as a little kid I wanted to be Hobo and just go around helping people. I guess in a weird way that translated to becoming a cop.” She smiled sheepishly as she took a deep sip of wine.

“How little a kid?”

“Really little,” Nicole confirmed. She made a height-motion with her hand around waist-level. “Like six years old.”

It was unbearably cute.

Waverly snuggled deeper into the blanket. “Whereas I wanted a dog so badly, but Daddy refused. Momma always said ‘someday’ though. Someday never came.”

Thinking of Momma reminded Waverly of the book she’d pulled from her car.

“Oh! I said I’d lend you a book!” She sprang up, leading the blanket along like a bridal train. Her large purse sat in a chair by the front door. Only a moment of digging before Waverly returned to the couch, worn paperback in hand.

She presented “Little Women” to Nicole through blanket-wrapped hands. “It was my absolute favorite growing up. Momma used to read it to me. One of the few things I have of hers. …have you read it?”

Nicole chewed her cheek a moment before answering. “I—I have actually read it, yes.”

“Oh,” Waverly said, disappointed but not that surprised (it was a classic, after all). She started to stand up again and gestured at her purse. “I have a couple others, actually! A Wyatt Earp memoir, if you’re into that sort of thing, and my Aunt Gus has this collection of—“

A hand on Waverly’s arm stopped her. Nicole tilted her head and asked quietly, “Could—could I still borrow Little Women?”

“Why?”

“Well… it’s been a long time so I don’t remember it completely. So I’d… like to read it. If that’s okay. But I don’t want to borrow something if it’s too valuable.” Nicole’s expression was soft.

Smiling, Waverly shot her a suspicious up-and-down glance. “Can I trust you? Promise to give it back?”

“Promise.” A warm, firm vow.

Waverly set the book on the coffee table and drained the rest of her wine. “Then it’s a deal!”

She snuggled against Nicole as they watched the show. It was just as cheesy as she remembered. Waverly felt an arm tighten around her shoulders. She walked her fingertips out from her blanket to rest on Nicole’s thigh.

At some point during the episode, things changed. Nicole’s hand cradled her head before leaning into a kiss that became two and then a dozen. Waverly allowed herself to be pushed backward against the couch arm as she threaded her fingers through Nicole’s loose hair. One episode blurred into another, tinny background sounds of barking or squealing tires faded as they kissed.

Waverly gasped at the sucking kisses against her lower lip, struggling to keep up. The hand at her waist pushed its way under the blanket until she felt Nicole’s fingertips against her side, stroking gently.

A cell phone rang. A loud, unfamiliar ring tone.

She felt Nicole jerk back with an explosive sigh.

“Who is it?” Waverly asked softly.

An irritated grunt of a word. “…Lonnie.” Nicole’s wide pupils focused on Waverly’s before she frowned in apology. “It might be important.”

Nicole pulled away from Waverly reluctantly as she reached for the phone in her pocket. The woman leaned in for one last kiss, then helped Waverly right herself on the couch as she answered.

Waverly raked fingers through her long hair, smiling bashfully as she eavesdropped.

It was hard to tell what Lonnie was saying. Nicole’s face started to scrunch up more and more the longer Lonnie talked.

Right when Waverly was afraid Nicole was going to burst with an expletive, instead she just sighed. “…Yea. I’ll cover you.” Nicole’s voice got stern. “But you owe me one, Lonnie. And not ‘I’ll save you the last donut’ owe me, neither. An actual favor.”

There was a pause on the other end, but a mumbling assent.

“Good. Say hey to Marlene for me. …and remember: you owe me one.”

Nicole sighed again as she hung up.

During that conversation, Waverly decided to check her own phone on the armrest next to her. She missed a text from Wynonna.

Shit. Shit! What time is it?

11:03PM.

Shitballs!

[Wynonna says: “hey, where r u?”]

Waverly made a tight, cringing smile. This time, she settled for lying.

[Waverly says: “homestead”]

[Wynonna says: “ok”]

Whew!

[Waverly says: “How’d it go with doc”]

[Wynonna says: “not good. told him there was no we and he got all quiet. whatever”]

She sighed. God, her sister was bad at this.

The only small comfort Waverly took was that Doc would probably be going drinking, so she wouldn’t have to deal with his questions when she got home. …not that he ever had any anyway. He was actually a pretty decent tenant…

…And obviously he was good at being discrete, she thought with a scowl.

[Wynonna says: “i went out. don’t wait up”]

[Waverly says: “OK be safe. Love you”]

“Wynonna?” Nicole asked as she nodded towards Waverly’s phone.

“Of course.”

A nod of acknowledgment from Nicole.

Which reminded Waverly of something earlier at BBD.

Tilting her head, Waverly asked, “So you and Wynonna went drinking?” She wasn’t accusing, more just… curious. And also trying to decide if this was another secret to be mad at Wynonna about.

Nicole’s brow furrowed for a moment before smoothing. “Go drinking? Oh! No, we didn’t like… go bar hopping or something. I was clocked out at the station one night and she showed up with a bottle of Jack.”

“When was this?”

“Uh… well… So… it was the night of the engagement party…” Nicole started to look decidedly uncomfortable.

“Oh yea?”

A sigh before Nicole continued. “We parked under my desk and passed the bottle around. She was drinking because I guess Dolls got pulled back to D.C.? …or wherever it was he reports to? I don’t know. She seemed distraught and needed someone to talk to. And I was—well…”

“You were what?” Waverly reached out to touch Nicole’s hand.

“I was… just… kinda bummed? So, it was nice to have someone to hang out with. And Wynonna is pretty cool, when you get past the occasional attitude.”

Ain’t that the truth.

That gave Waverly pause. “Why were you bummed?”

Nicole’s expression was pained. She started to speak slowly. “Well… if I’m being perfectly honest… because I—I wasn’t invited. To… the party.”

Waverly felt a distressed panic rise in her throat as words tumbled out of her mouth. “Oh gosh! I’m sorry! I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking and it was just a little thing for Stephanie and she—and I…”

“Wave,” Nicole said as she squeezed Waverly’s hand. “You didn’t owe me an invite. I get it. You’ve lived here your whole life. You know everybody. You have your own friends. I wasn’t bummed because I felt entitled to going to a party and got left out.”

Nicole took a deep, pained breath. “I was bummed… because… I wanted an excuse to see you. Outside of the station or a crime scene. Outside of uniform, cop or Shorty’s.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to see you and I wished I could. That’s all. Selfish moping. No one’s fault.”

A pause. “And then I wished I could have helped, seeing what went down later.”

Waverly wrapped Nicole in a tight hug that lasted a long time. “Me too.” Pulling back, Waverly kissed Nicole’s nose with a smile. “Well, now I know better. Next time I have a house party with psychos, you’ll be first on the list.”

“Good! …I think.” Nicole gave a small laugh before an apologetic smile. “I guess I should let you get home. And I now have an early day tomorrow.” She scowled.

“Me too, actually. Heading to the city to the library.” Waverly stood up to gather her jacket and purse and step into her boots. She shot Nicole a sly grin. “Want me to go to the county courthouse and yell at the archive clerks for you?”

“Nah,” Nicole replied as she kissed Waverly’s cheek goodbye. She was holding the paperback of “Little Women” in her hands like a treasure. “I’m good.”