Chapter Text
The faint sound of pop country swam through the cracked back door of Shorty’s. A gentle waft of wind wisped through the back alley, shifting the dirt around two sets of boots. The only other disturbance to the relative silence was the echoing click of a gun.
Click.
Click.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click—
“God damnit, stupid gun, work!”
Wynonna lowered Peacemaker and hit it hard across the barrel. She pulled back the hammer once more. The gun glowed an angry blue and went off, very nearly shooting Wynonna in the foot.
The sound of rubber on concrete pulled her attention from cursing her mystical gun to watching her would-be victim run off into the night. Wynonna cursed some more. She noticed a post-it note fluttering in an unsettled draft and snatched it out of the air. It read:
It’s not over. You will all learn.
—R10
//
Waverly and Nicole were having what was obviously a very intense lip-sync battle when Wynonna stomped up, depositing Peacemaker on the bar top with an unceremonious clunk that startled them apart.
“Whiskey, leave the bottle,” Wynonna grunted over Nicole’s complaints. Waverly gave her sister an arched brow, to which she rolled her eyes but softened. “...please.”
While Waverly prepared drinks for three, Nicole turned to Wynonna. “Did you get ‘em? The demon?”
Wynonna sighed. “No, they got away—” A red head of hair thunked wood and a groan came from near the taps. “—but, they did leave this note.” Wynonna slid the post-it over to the couple and grabbed the bottle her sister sat next to the perfectly drinkable tumblers of whiskey.
“Wow, that is... pink,” Nicole pointed out, squinting at the indeed very neon slip of paper. Waverly picked it up delicately and flipped it over in her palm.
“That’s it? ‘It’s not over. You will all learn,’” she read. “Learn what? And—R10...”
They each spent a moment in deep, possibly inebriated thought. “Maybe... R’s for revenant. Revenant ten? How many’re left, Wy?” Nicole spoke up and the woman in question didn’t even bite at her use of the diminutive.
“Uh—”
“Ten,” Waverly supplied, and brought her hand to her chin thoughtfully.
“Yeah, ten. So, this demon—?”
“—must be the tenth to last revenant!” Nicole finished. Nicole and Wynonna high-fived, but then Nicole closed her fingers around the other woman’s and stared into her eyes with a could-be charming grin. Wynonna snarked and teased, trying to wrestle out of the hold. She popped Nicole’s hand away suppressing a smile of her own.
Waverly looked on with a fond expression. It’s nice to see them finally getting along, she thought.
//
She regretted that thought not even two hours later.
The trio had decided to have a ‘badass women’s night out’—a night to “just get away from all our un-real-world problems and have some shit-faced fun,” so was Wynonna’s reasoning, as much as drinking on discount at Shorty’s while Waverly acted as interim-bartender could be counted as ‘getting away.’
Waverly had already expected she would have to stay mostly sober due to her sister’s booze-induced habit of trying to drive home drunk (and, of course, her job, interim as it was). What she hadn’t expected was for her girlfriend to dive so deep into the fun right alongside her sister. And, being the adorable lightweight she was, Nicole dove fast.
Nicole and Wynonna bickered back and forth, gradually becoming more and more competitive as the night wore on and the taps kept flowing. They moved from the bar (and an unnecessarily dramatic roast session), to the dance floor (Nicole tried her tipsy best to seduction-eyes Waverly into joining), to the pool table (the duo were a surprisingly even match—if they were sober enough to keep track they would’ve known it was a tie game; as it were they almost started a brawl over who put the billiard ball in Nicole’s beer), and finally to the karaoke mic, where they were currently happily screeching away.
Waverly had given up trying to stop them, and was not hiding behind the bar—she was simply catching up with patrons. She kept a steady eye on the two troublemakers and wondered how on hell on earth Wynonna managed to get Nicole almost black-out drunk every time they were together. They should’ve come with a hazard label.
//
At some point in the night Nicole passed out in one of the back booths. Not soon after, Wynonna followed suit, falling into a rather peaceful slumber on Nicole’s shoulder. Waverly risked a glance in their direction as she started to clean up. Her eyes crinkled and she breathed out an ‘aww’ at the adorable sight. Waverly took out her phone to snap a photo, but ultimately decided to just let them have their moment. Maybe another time. Speaking of time...
Waverly tapped the home button on her phone. The screen lit up with a clock—2:18 AM.
“Fudge nuggets.” Way past time to be getting Wynonna home.
Waverly glanced at the two. There was no way she’d be able to get them out of their seats, much less into her Jeep, by herself. Her phone vibrated—a text from Doc—giving her an idea.
Holliday Inn: Herkllo/
Holliday Inn: sOrry< I don;t knw hwe yo sdisejtiosk
Holliday Inn: Wrorng numbr.
R u drunk?
Holliday Inn: nO1 JSUT SPID KABORD1!
Okay...
Anyway
Can u please come pick up Wy?
Were @ shorty’s
Waverly waited a moment for an answer but none came. She looked away from the screen and her gaze settled on the back booth once again. Wynonna was clutching Nicole’s arm like a child would a teddy bear while the redhead snored softly.
Waverly’s phone buzzed with a reply from Doc, a jumble of letters that Waverly assumed was some sort of affirmative. To pass the time she diddled with her phone, eventually finding herself scrolling through her camera roll filled with pictures of her found family. On second thought she opened the camera app and took a picture of the slumbering duo in the back. Just for herself. She pondered a moment before setting it as her home screen.
//
Some time later Doc sauntered in through the front doors, an intense look on his face—expectant of trouble. He spoke loudly as he palmed his hat and approached Waverly. “Alright now, I came as fast as I could—”
“Shhhh!” The brunette held out an arm of caution causing Doc to put his hands in the air in surprise. She tipped her head towards the back of the bar with a tight-lipped, albeit genuine smile. Doc followed her motion with his eyes and made an ‘o’ with his mouth. His mustache twitched to conceal a smile. Waverly gestured the gunslinger closer and spoke quietly, “They’ve been asleep for a little while. You think you can get them home?”
“I can get Wynonna, but you’re sure you don’t want to keep the Officer Haught?”
“Well, I know I can’t drag her anywhere on my own...”
Doc waved away her concern with his hat. “Do not worry yourself, darling, you all can just take the upstairs room. I am not using it now anyway.”
“I mean, I don’t want to be bothering you—”
“You are no bother,” Doc assured. He tossed the keys to Waverly, shoved his hat over his hair, squared his shoulders and mumbled something under his breath. Waverly watched the old gambler coax Wynonna up from the booth and across the bar. As they passed, Wynonna slurred something like “guh-nigh, Wavy-girl,” and Doc murmured his own farewell. She bid them a safe drive before turning to her girlfriend who was still sprawled over the seat.
The shorter woman put her fists to her hips in a classic Supergirl pose and relished for another moment the scene before her. Some eighties’ song was playing from overhead. A beautiful redheaded cop slept in the back corner, uniform rumpled from a rough day worn. The low light shaded her face perfectly. Waverly breathed in, the strong odor of alcohol and sweat wafting from every surface. She wrinkled her nose and breathed out through her mouth.
//
“I don’ wanna.”
“Sweetie pie, you’ve got to, it’s three o’clock in the morning.”
Nicole grumped and asked what day it was. Friday.
“Then I don’t h’ve’ta go in fer work tuh-morrow,” she said. Waverly sighed and hauled Nicole’s exhaustion-laden arm over her shoulders, tightening her grip around the taller woman’s waist, and cooed words of encouragement that drowned out her girlfriend’s groaning. They even made it to the first step of the stairs.
“You must be Waverly Earp.”
The couple froze. Waverly looked to the ceiling for guidance and then turned slowly, still stabilizing Nicole. A clean-shaven, casually-dressed young man stood on the adjacent side of the bar.
“What,” Waverly gritted, “do you want.”
She must have looked like some sort of angry beaver because suddenly the man didn’t have such a leisurely demeanor. He sat down the tankard he had been inspecting and lowered his hands, palms up. “Woah now, didn’t mean to upset you. I’d assumed you got my note?”
Waverly glanced toward the neon post-it still stuck to the bar top. Nicole narrowed her eyes and raised a very important question: “Who’re you?”
The man looked at the woman slung over Waverly as if just noticing her. “Why, I’m Billy.”
“Hey, I knew a kid n’med Billy,” Nicole muttered absently. This sparked something in Waverly’s memory.
“Billy... the Kid? You’re revenant ten?” said Waverly.
The man’s face lit up, but not in elation. His eye sockets burned red and his voice growled as he exclaimed, “Got it’n one go!”
Waverly yelped and scrambled away, dragging a squinting Nicole. As the taller woman stumbled backwards she slurred, “I’m-m too drunk for this, but aren’t you s’posed to be dead?” Both Waverly and the alleged Billy shot the tipsy officer looks that clearly said ‘no shit, Sherlock.’ She clarified, “Like, not by peas—ergh, Peacemaker?”
“Well, we’re runnin’ low on time, so I ain’t gonna give you my life story,” said Billy as he watched the brunette not-so-subtly tug the redhead behind her, “But you know how I was supposed to’ve been shot an’ killed at Fort Sumner?” Waverly nodded, her gaze sliding up and to the right as she recalled pieces of her research.
“Yeah, shot by Pat Garrett in 1881.”
“Long story shortened, I survived. Went to Arizona, where none other’n that damn Wyatt got me. Only been sent down once since then, but I seen what Hell does to the other guys. I want to help end this damned curse.” The two women considered the man suspiciously. He sighed as if having predicted they wouldn’t trust him. “Also Rosita sent me.”
Waverly’s eyebrows shot up and Nicole let out a childish gasp. “You know where she is? Rosita?” asked Waverly, a hopeful twinkle in her eye.
“She told me on threat of makin’ me ‘Sleepin’ Beauty 2.0’ to not tell y’all.”
“Oh.” The twinkle disappeared. Nicole mumbled something possibly insulting to the former revenant ally. Billy clapped his hands together and continued.
“Well. Now that all our introductions’re finished, I did come ‘ere with reason—Rosita gave me strict instructions, an’ I ain’t no princess. You, Earp, are lucky you didn’t drink much,” said Billy, just as Waverly started to feel woozy. She sagged into her girlfriend’s side, realizing that the aforementioned woman was once again fast asleep and leaned against the wall. A shocked look overcame her face and she looked back to Billy the Kid. “You’ll find ev’rythin’ else in the letter.” He touched the tip of his hat.
“Adios, ‘migos.”
And with that Waverly’s vision faded to black.
//
(tbc.)