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Waverly’s eyes shimmered as she looked at the official letter in her hands. She read the text over and over again, just to make sure it was real. To make sure it wasn’t a dream, and the ink wouldn’t suddenly dip and slide off of the page like rainwater off a fig leaf.
Her entire life, Waverly had only wanted to belong. To something. Anything. A family. A higher purpose. Something where she could say with certainty “This is me, and who I am, and what I am - and no one and nothing can take that away.”
True, Waverly had been raised an Earp. And truer still, she was definitely Wynonna’s sister if in spirit only and not by blood. But the larger part of her had always felt ‘othered’ and distant. Even as she tried, when she was younger, to claim the Earp legacy as her own - researching, learning, earning degrees for the purpose of shouldering the burden and the honor - there was a point where, no matter what, it was always grasping at straws. She could carry some of the weight, but only as an ally and never as the force.
But here, in her hands, was everything. Proof that not only was she someone, but she was a part of something. Something bigger than herself. A whole that was equal to the sum of its parts and whose sacred bond stretched eons in all directions. An inevitability of connection. Waverly was proud to call this truth her own. Here in ink, despite the chaos of the universe, was a moment of perfect stillness and alignment.
Waverly was so caught up in the document before her, that she failed to hear the door of their home open and shut, and jumped slightly when a soft voice disturbed her reverie.
“Sorry, baby,” apologized Nicole, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She looked at Waverly’s face and the tears threatening her eyes. “Are… are you okay?” Nicole watched as Waverly nodded, her eyes still glued to the page. “What is it,” she asked, peering down to the sheet. Her eyes went wide. “Is…that my name?” Nicole’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Our name,” Waverly answered, looking up to her wife with a watery smile.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to change it,” said Nicole, her tone laced with wonder and gratitude.
“Of course I was,” said Waverly, turning herself in toward Nicole’s body and resting an arm across her low-back, her other hand still holding the official letter.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Waverly replied. “Is… is this okay? You’re okay with it?”
“Baby, are you kidding me? This is amazing!” Nicole hooked her arm around Waverly’s back and pulled her up slightly as she dipped her head to kiss her deeply. After a moment they rested their foreheads together. “How did you manage to get the form without me knowing,” Nicole asked.
“Lonnie gave it to me. Well… first he gave me a pet license application - but then he got me the right one,” Waverly grinned.
Nicole giggled joyfully and lifted Waverly’s hand to look over the official confirmation of name change once more. She sighed happily and held her wife even more tightly to her. “Well, Waverly Haught–”
“Mrs.,” Waverly interrupted with emphasis.
Nodding seriously in agreement with the correction, Nicole repeated, “Mrs. Waverly Haught, what shall we do with the rest of our day?”
“I’ve got a ‘to-do’ list a mile long,” Waverly responded. “I have to apply for a new social, and call the bank to change my name on the account, and get a new license and–”
“And…,” Nicole cut her off, “all of that can wait… for a day.” She kissed her wife again, deep and open-mouthed.
Waverly’s hand fell to her side, the paper falling and floating to the floor. She moaned lightly against Nicole’s lips, reaching up and caressing her now free hand into soft red curls.
“For now,” Nicole husked against her lips, “I’d like to celebrate.”
Pressing her body firmly into Nicole’s, Waverly looped her arms up around her neck and drew her in for another kiss, this one fiery and passionate and full of unspoken promises. She squeaked and giggled when Nicole swooped her up, bridal style, and started for the stairs.
“I have a feeling it’s about to get very 'Haught’ in here,” Waverly joked.
Groaning, Nicole rested her forehead against Waverly’s again. “Get it out of your system now, baby, because believe me, the puns get old fast.”
“I look forward to finding that out for myself,” Waverly grinned.
Nicole’s eyes softened to an umber glow. “I love you, Mrs. Haught.”
Waverly smiled so widely her eyes almost crinkled shut. “I love you, Mrs. Haught.” Nicole started for the stairs again. “Baby, hold on a second.” Waverly started to shift in her wife’s arms, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
Tapping and navigating quickly across her screen she found whatever it was she was looking for, and then tucked her phone away again as the sound of a steady drumbeat suddenly started playing from the bluetooth-enabled stereo-system. “Just providing some mood music.”
Nicole almost dropped Waverly as she started belly-laughing to the sound of the familiar synth piano playing the immediately recognizable intro to Donna Summer’s “Hot Stuff”.
Re-adjusting her grip under Waverly’s thighs, she continued up the stairs. “You are so in for it now.”
“I certainly hope so,” Waverly replied, anticipation heavy in the husk of her voice, “Haught Stuff.”