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Nicole (8:52PM): Wave, please call me, I need to talk to you
Nicole (9:04PM): I'm sorry
Nicole peeled off the blue latex gloves after they finished examining the crime scene, nodded towards Dolls, who nodded back.
Waverly had barely even acknowledged Nicole, and when she did, it was short and curt. Anyone who knew Waverly and Nicole would have been able to point out in a hot second that something was wrong.
She approached the small bundled woman slowly, aware she'd made a mistake. A big one.
“Hey.”
Waverly nodded, her lips pursed tight in a false smile.
“Wave, can we talk?” She didn't want to beg, but she'd get on her knees and beg and plead if she had to.
“About what?” Waverly turned, hands on hips, her clearly pissed off face just poking out of her big scarf.
Nicole sighed heavy. “Come on-”
“I'm allowed to be mad at you, Nicole!” Waverly interrupted, she looked directly at Nicole. And while her voice was angry, there was more hurt and pain in her face than anything else.
Nicole just nodded. She had every right to be mad at her. She couldn't even say anything to disagree. She ducked her head in lieu of a goodbye, got in her cruiser and drove away.
Wynonna propped her feet on the coffee table, eating ice cream straight out of the carton. A knock on the door stilled her movement, she looked around as if someone would appear and answer it for her. She grimaced, yelled up the stairs:
“Wave! Come answer the door!”
No response.
“Ughhh. This better be important,” she ambled to the door, “oh no, no no no no no.” She slammed the door, but Nicole's hand stopped it, and she stepped inside.
“I just need to talk to her.”
“And she just needs you to leave her alone right now.” Wynonna plopped herself back on the couch, took another bite of ice cream.
“What happened to not wanting to control her, huh? She's been treated like a kid her whole life. She doesn't need her girlfriend doing that,” Wynonna pointed her spoon at Nicole as she took a seat in the chair across from her.
“That's not what I was trying to do. You'd do anything to protect her, right?”
Wynonna narrowed her eyes at the redhead.
“Tell me how opening her mail, which - federal offense, officer, and lying to her is protecting her.”
Nicole took a deep breath, “she told you.”
She figured Waverly would tell Wynonna they were fighting, or something of the sort. She hadn't really expected her to know the specific details.
Wynonna scoffed, “secrets, secrets, don’t make friends.”
Nicole frowned. “That’s not how it goes.”
Just then, Wynonna's phone started buzzing across the table. Nicole reached over to hand it to her, briefly saw Waverly's name on the screen.
Wynonna read a text and shoved her phone between her and the couch cushions.
“Doesn't want to talk to you.” She popped her lips as she licked her spoon clean, looked Nicole straight in the eyes.
Nicole sighed in resignation. Walking to the door, she turned to look upstairs one more time before leaving.
Nicole (3:27PM): I'm not asking you to forgive me. Just want to talk to you. I'll wait until you're ready. I'm sorry.
Waverly didn't respond to the text for another week. Nicole had honestly been expecting to receive the silent treatment for longer, so she counted her blessings.
A soft knock sounded on Waverly's door. Nicole waited for a response. She was on thin ice, so she tried not to overstep.
At Waverly's permission, she entered, a shoebox tucked under her arm.
“Hey,” Nicole offered, meekly.
Waverly nodded. She sat on her bed, book in her lap, one Nicole didn't recognize.
“Can I-?” Nicole gestured to the bed, a few feet away from Waverly.
She held out her hand, “yeah.”
Nicole sat, sighed. She'd rehearsed this, gone over it in her head, several times. But she was still nervous as all hell. Her relationship with Waverly had never been this shaky, they’d never had a fight like this. And she had never been in a relationship that mattered to her more than this one. So she just took a deep breath and started.
“So, uh, I’ve never told you these things, and I think now would be a good time to do that.” Nicole took the shoebox that now sat beside her and opened it, pulled a photo out and handed it to Waverly. “This … is my high school senior class photo.”
Waverly's eyes scanned the photo, “but - you're not in here,” confusion laced her voice.
“No,” Nicole scooted a little closer to lean over the photo, pointed out four boys, “these guys … jumped me. Two days before. I was in the hospital that day, actually about a week,” she tapped on the photo one last time.
“Oh my god,” Waverly's voice was barely audible.
Nicole's face remained relatively straight, attempting to keep her emotions at bay while recalling the memory, not wanting any pity at this time. She pulled something else from the box.
“This is a paper I wrote in college, it'll make more sense if you read it.”
Entirely unsure of the direction this was headed, Waverly read the paper. It was good, really good. Which made the “D-” on the front confusing.
“This is a good paper, it deserves at least an A,” Waverly was only growing more confused.
Nicole took Waverly's words as a compliment, as smart as she was, “and I got it, after I went to the school board about my very homophobic teacher.”
Nicole took one last thing from the shoebox, a photo.
“This is the last photo I have with my dad.”
Waverly knew her parents were still alive, but that’s about all she knew about them.
Waverly looked, taken by surprise. “You look like a teenager here.”
“Fifteen.”
It hung in the air between them. Things started to click into place, make sense to Waverly. But she waited for Nicole to continue.
“I spent a lot of time - proving myself. To me, to everyone around me. I just didn’t want that for you, not anymore.”
Waverly took Nicole’s hands in her own. “The whole thing with Black Badge, that’s why you were so upset.”
Nicole ducked her head, trying to tell herself it wasn’t out of shame. “Yeah.”
Waverly tucked her finger under Nicole’s chin, forcing her to look in her eyes. “Hey, you are a good cop, a great one. That’s important.”
Nicole took Waverly’s face in her hands, “and you are Waverly. That is important. Your DNA or who gave birth to you doesn’t matter. You are Waverly. Nothing will change that.”
Tears stung Waverly’s eyes and she pressed her forehead against Nicole’s.
“It was still a really shitty thing to do.” Nicole chuckled against her face, nodding in agreeance. “I needed to know. It’s important to me.”
“I understand. Just remember, you’re Waverly. That’s important.”
Waverly gazed into the brown eyes, nodded, “yeah. Don’t do that again. I missed you.”
Nicole released a deep breath, leaned into Waverly’s neck, inhaling the scent that was so familiar, so comforting. As soon as she felt Waverly’s arms wrap around her neck, she pulled her closer by her torso. God, she’d missed this. Just simply holding her.
“I missed you too.”
Waverly’s fingers ran over Nicole’s face, while Nicole traced patterns up and down the soft skin of Waverly’s back as they lay facing each other on the bed.
“Is that where you got these?” She gently ran her fingers over the scars on Nicole’s face. “High school?” The tender, considerate face looking into Nicole’s was overwhelming. She fought back tears.
“Yeah.”
“Why do you still have that stuff?” Waverly’s brows creased, and Nicole leaned forward and pressed her lips to them, because she couldn’t help herself.
Nicole took Waverly’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Do you still have Willa’s journal?”
The question took Waverly by surprise, she nodded.
“I’ll make you a deal. When you’re ready to throw that out, I’ll throw my stuff out. ‘Kay?”
Waverly thought a moment, brought her head to rest against Nicole’s chest. “Can we burn it?”
Nicole laughed. This woman and fire. “Obviously.”