Chapter Text
"This is ridiculous," Wynonna said, plucking at the orange, mesh vest. "I mean, I can pull a lot of things off, like, a lot of things, but this? This is torture."
"Beats jail time," Waverly quipped, examining her nail beds as she sat perched on the tailgate of Gus' truck. The recent snow hadn't amounted to much and was already thawing rapidly. Nedley had taken full advantage by tasking Wynonna and Nicole with their mandatory community service.
"I think I would have preferred jail time. Jail time, I can do. I excel at it, actually."
"That's nothing to brag about," Nicole chimed in, pulling her own vest on.
"Have you ever spent three nights in a Mexican jail cell? No, didn't think so, goody-two-shoes."
"You were In jail in Mexico?" Waverly asked with wonder.
"Tijuana, actually, it's not really Mexico."
"Yes, Wynonna, it is."
"It's nothing like the rest of the country, is all I'm sayin'. Beautiful country when you get out to some of the smaller towns."
"I believe you."
"Baby girl," she said with a serious look as she planted her hands on Waverly's thighs, "never, ever, go into a building with the word 'donkey' advertised on it in any way, shape or form."
"I'll take your word for it."
Nicole just shook her head at the sisters, chuckling as she reached into the bed of the truck for her trash-picker-upper.. "C'mon, Earp, let's get goin'."
The middle Earp sighed dramatically and grabbed her own trash stick.
"Call me if you need any more bags," Waverly giggled. "You two look adorable."
"And you look like you want a good spanking," Wynonna threatened.
Waverly hopped down from the tailgate and lifted it shut with a bang. "See you later, hot stuff," she grinned, tilting up to plant a kiss on Nicole's mouth. She really did look adorable, Waverly thought, in her jeans and faded blue bandana, even in the dorky orange safety vest.
As Waverly peeled off in the truck, a little too fast for Nicole's liking, the redhead turned to her friend, "Well, should we get started?"
"How 'bout we walk to town and get a drink, instead?"
"First of all, that's like...a two hour walk...and second, no."
"Like I said, a goody-two-shoes."
"Please, I've gotten into my fair share of trouble. I mean, sure, maybe it wasn't three-nights-in-Mexico kind of trouble..."
"Right," Wynonna drawled, pinching the redhead's butt with the grabbers as she turned to walk away.
"Hey!"
"What could you, the noble Officer Haught, have ever possibly done wrong in your life?"
"Stole a bottle of whiskey from a corner store, once."
Wynonna gasped in mock surprise, "Oh, my! Tsk tsk, we are naughty! Ha, naughty Haughty!"
"Damn straight," Nicole said, lifting her first bit of garbage into a garish, orange plastic bag.
"Let me guess," Wynonna smirked, "you left money on the counter?"
"No..."
"No?"
"Under another bottle on the shelf."
"Ha! I knew it! Can't even steal properly."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Nicole couldn't help but smile. They worked quietly, side-by-side, until Nicole asked, "Why are you wearing your gun?"
"You kiddin'? Revenants don't care if I'm taking a crap on the toilet, let alone picking up trash on the highway!"
"Good point, though I could have done without the image of you on a toilet."
"Picturing me with my pants down, now, Haught? Good lord, keep it in your pants, will ya?"
"Gross. On so many levels."
"If I'm so gross, why don't you go and work on the other side of the road?"
"Bite me, Earp."
"Is that a diaper? I am so not picking up any diapers."
"Still want me on the other side of the road?" Nicole asked, her nose wrinkling as she lifted the offending item into her bag.
They became quiet again, working their way along the roadside in amiable silence. A low rumble of thunder in the distance caught Nicole's attention and she looked up to see dark clouds forming over the nearby mountains. The cloud of fog that had previously been settled over the peaks was lowering and, soon, the entire range would be invisible behind it. She shivered. "Gonna rain soon, looks like it's headed this way."
"Just great," Wynonna grumbled, "I'm already up to my ankles in mud, here."
"I don't suppose you brought an umbrella with you?"
"Do I look like Mary fuckin' Poppins, Haught?"
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Waverly was busy at the bar. She was short-staffed, today. One of her regular bartenders had called in sick and Wynonna was out on the highway, picking up trash with Nicole. My fiance, she mused, looking down at the emerald on her finger and smiling. Then, My fiance is picking up trash on the side of the road. The smile faltered. Nedley had at least been gracious enough to put the two to work away from town where they were less likely to be harassed by the locals. Well, that and the fact that having one of his deputies picking up trash didn't present the greatest image of the department.
People were pouring into Shorty's in droves, which was curious for a random Tuesday afternoon. Shuttling a round of beers to a corner booth, she learned the answer. "Big storm comin', Waverly. You got a ride home? Didn't see your Jeep outside." It was one of the regulars, a 60-something man with whitish hair and a grizzled beard.
"All good, Hank, I've got Gus' truck."
"Good thing, it's gonna be a wet one. Turn all this frozen ground to muck in no time. You make sure you put some weight in the back or that thing'll be slidin' around like a sumbitch on those dirt roads."
"Of course," Waverly smiled sweetly. "Get'cha anything else, guys?"
Back behind the bar, she was fixing a row of hot rum coffees for some of the more adventurous patrons at the counter when it hit her. "Shit."
"What is it, Waves?" One of the servers asked.
"Shit!"
"Waverly?"
She looked up and saw through the murky front windows that it was, indeed, beginning to dump buckets of rain outside.
"Nothing, it's nothing...it's just, Wynonna and Nicole are..."
"What? What is it?"
"It's fine, don't worry."
"Do you need to go pick them up somewhere?"
Waverly thought about it but, looking around the busy bar, decided it was best to stay put. Her sister and her fiance would be fine. Certainly, they'd be able to hitch a ride or call someone.
"They'll be fine, they're big girls." She said, hearing the uncertainty in her own voice. "Can you go check on that order of burgers for the guys in the corner?"
"Sure thing, boss."
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Two hours later, the happy hour crowd was filling the bar to capacity and Waverly was rushing around like a whirling dervish. The storm was bringing people in, seeking the warm comfort and socialization of the pub's atmosphere. The business was great, but Waverly was exhausted, so it wasn't a surprise when she didn't notice the two sopping figures banging in through the heavy, front doors.
"Fuckin' hell, Haught, they're all in here! No wonder there wasn't a damn soul in sight on that fuckin' road!"
"Lookin' good, Wynonna," one of the unruly patrons at the counter called out.
"Fuck you, asshole!"
Waverly turned at the mention of her sister's name and caught sight of the pair of women shivering on the wooden steps. They both were caked with mud from boots to knees and each was donning an orange plastic bag that they had clearly cuts slits in to stick poke heads through. The effect was nothing short of hilarious, but nobody in the bar uttered a word as Wynonna glared threateningly around the room. When her eyes finally found and settled on Waverly, the petite brunette let out a startled squeak.
The Earp heir ripped the plastic bag from her shoulders and dropped it onto the floor where a pool of muddy rainwater was already forming.
"Use a phone much, sis?" She growled, stomping toward the counter and pushing the red-faced man there off of her usual stool with a grunt.
"Wynonna-"
"Whiskey, Neat."
"Hey, babe," Nicole said, moving to stand behind Wynonna. She was holding the wadded up orange bags in her shaking hands—clearly having picked Wynonna's up from the floor—and smiling at Waverly with chattering teeth. "One for me, too, if you don't mind." Her red hair was plastered to her head and neck and Waverly felt her heart sink.
"I'm so sorry, Nic, things just got so crazy-"
"'Oh, I'm so sorry, snookums, you poor baby'," Wynonna mimicked in a sing-songy voice before making a series of exaggerated kissing noises. She didn't look much better than Nicole; they both looked like a pair of drowned rats. "Geez, sis, just give me the damn bottle and I'll do it myself," Wynonna griped, leaning over the bartop to snag two glasses.
"There's extra clothes upstairs, if you two wanna grab a shower."
"Good idea," Wynonna said, swiping the bottle from Waverly's hand and heading for the stairs, "c'mon, Haught, let's go."
"Thanks," Nicole grinned, flashing her dimples before leaning across the bar to peck Waverly's lips with her own, freezing ones. Waverly watched the pair ascend the stairs; Nicole was still clutching the orange bags and stepping as gingerly as possible in her muddy boots, carefully trying not to track too much of it. Waverly's heart swelled at the gesture, how was this woman even real?
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"So, I've been thinkin'," Wynonna drawled, finally kicking her boots off onto the floor.
"Never a good thing," Nicole said, frowning at the muddy mess Wynonna was making.
"Quiet, or I won't tell you and," she said, bringing the bottle to her lips for a long drag, "trust me, you'll wanna hear me out."
"I'm listening," Nicole consented, reaching to take the bottle from Wynonna. Her hands were still shaking and the task of pouring any of the whiskey into a glass seemed daunting. Instead, she took Wynonna's lead and drank straight from the bottle.
"So, you and my little sister-"
"A little late for that talk, isn't it?"
"Don't interrupt me," Wynonna snapped, taking the bottle back.
"Fine."
"Ah-ah!" The brunette tsked, raising a finger to shush Nicole. "So, anyway, as I was sayin' before I was so rudely interrupted...you're livin' at the homestead now, basically. Shit, I can't walk my own house without tripping over that damn cat of yours!" She took another swig. "And you two are, ya know, getting hitched or whatever."
Nicole nodded, but didn't say a word. Instead, she focused on peeling off her own boots and wondered where this conversation was going.
"And Waverly's room, well, it's fine for just Waves. But, well," she shrugged, fiddling with the button of her soaked jeans, "it's not really meant for two."
"Okaaay..."
"I'm just sayin'," Wynonna continued, shucking her jeans and peeling them down her pale legs, "you two should take the master bedroom."
Nicole sat, staring up at her, shocked.
Just then, a familiar voice called from the hallway, "Hey, you two, brought you some soup, fresh from the kitch-" She stopped abruptly, looking from a pantsless Wynonna to Nicole, who was clutching the bottle of whiskey in her hand and looking wary. "Kitchen," Waverly finished lamely. "Am I missing something, here?" She asked, settling a tray that held two steaming bowls heaped with two massive squares of corn bread on the nearby dresser.
"Your sister was just askin' me a question," Nicole replied, uncertain.
"Oh? Was she? See, the last time I caught her in this room she was about to-"
"Settle down, baby girl, I'm not here to screw your future wife."
"Jeepers, Wyn, there's a bathroom, ya know!"
Wynonna answered by stripping off her top, tossing it at her sister and heading toward the open bathroom door. The little brunette, holding the wet garment to her chest, turned to raise a questioning eyebrow at Nicole. The redhead shrugged and continued to peel her damp socks off of her pruny feet.
"Don't you shrug at me, officer!"
Nicole turned to look up at Waverly from her seat in one of the straight-backed wooden chairs. Hair soaked, teeth still chattering; she looked miserable.
"Oh, you think those puppy-dog eyes will work, then?"
"I'm freezing."
"Jesus, Nicole," Waverly sighed, throwing Wynonna's shirt onto the pile with the rest of her clothes and plucking the quilt from the bed, "you're gonna catch your death. Strip."
"But-"
"Don't 'but' me, out of those wet clothes, now."
"Oh my god, this feels so fucking good," Wynonna's moans could be heard through the closed bathroom door. "Fuck, this is amazing!"
Nicole looked back at Waverly, tilting her head with a questioning look.
"It's fine, you can just wrap this around yourself until Wynonna's done. Unless she runs us out of hot water." She moved to bang on the door, "Save some hot water, Wyn!"
"Blow me!" Came the reply.
When Waverly turned back, Nicole was attempting to strip off her sports bra and failing miserably. "'S too wet," she monotoned as the garment pinned her arms above her head.
"I got you," Waverly stepped forward, raising up on to her toes to try and free the redhead. "Sit down, I can't reach."
"Fuck, that was awesome, better'n sex!" Wynonna boomed, stepping into the room. "Jesus, fuckin' hell-fire!" She exclaimed, taking in Nicole sitting half naked, eye level with Waverly's crotch. "Gah! This room is cursed!"
Waverly, on pure instinct, flung the quilt over Nicole, covering her entirely.
"Uh, what's going on?"
"Well, for starters," Wynonna growled, "you were just about to get face deep in my sister."
"Was not!" Nicole's muffled voice came from under the blanket.
"Were to!"
"Shut up, the both of you! Wynonna," Waverly glared at her sister, "there's some stuff that might fit in that top drawer, I mean unless you want to wear that towel downstairs."
"Wouldn't be the first time!"
"Yes, I remember."
Waverly guided a still-covered Nicole toward the bathroom by the shoulders and, once inside, helped her strip off her filthy jeans.
"Sorry 'bout the mud."
"Don't worry about it, hon', I'm sorry I left ya'll stranded."
"S'fine, Wave, it's pretty crazy downstairs. Besides, penance due, right?" She stepped into the shower, her naked body peppered with gooseflesh. "Oh, god, she's right, this does feel amazing."
"I gotta head back downstairs, babe."
"Wynonna's giving us her room at the Homestead."
"She's what?" Waverly gasped, yanking aside the shower curtain to gape at Nicole. "Is she drunk?"