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Waverly Earp hates thunder.
She doesn’t mind rain. Rain is calming, rain is cleansing, even as a child she knows this. Rain is soft. Rain washes away hard, harsh memories of the day. Rain helps .
Thunder does not.
The thunderclap booms overhead, deep and loud, and Waverly jumps, pulling the covers tighter around herself, biting her lip to stop the tears. It won’t do to cry , Waverly tells herself. Willa already thinks she’s weak enough. If she sees Waverly crying now, she’ll never hear the end of it.
Waverly hears a board creek across the room, and she snaps her head up to look at the source, already dreading Willa having woken and come to sneer as she stands there, completely unfazed, but it isn’t Willa at all.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” Wynonna says calmly, and Waverly lets out a tight breath at the sight of her other sister instead.
She’s carrying a blanket, wrapped around her shoulders, and Waverly can picture clearly the mess Wynonna’s bed will be, the sheet pulled from its place and draped over the side of the mattress in Wynonna’s haste to reach her.
“I’m sorry,” Waverly says quietly, a shiver starting in her shoulders and making its way down into her belly.
“What are you sorry for?” Wynonna asks softly, and there’s a smile on her face that Waverly can see, even in the darkness, that makes her feel a little less frightened. “You’re even more clever than I thought you were if you can make thunder, too, kiddo.”
She’s only a few years older than Waverly, but Wynonna is already more of a parent to her than anyone else in Waverly’s life.
Wynonna settles in close to her, raising her arm as she does so, and Waverly settles underneath it easily, her pounding heart settling when she feels the weight of the blanket and the security it provides on her shoulder. It’s Wynonna next to her that makes her feel the safest though, it’s always Wynonna that makes her feel the safest.
“Tell me about thunder,” Wynonna says, as Waverly draws her knees up to her chest. “Tell me how it happens.”
Wynonna had stolen the book from the library the last time they’d had a thunderstorm - liberated, she’d called it, though, I liberated it, Waverly - thinking that if Waverly knew what thunder was, it might frighten her less.
“It’s caused by lightning,” Waverly replies, closing her eyes, focusing on the warmth of Wynonna next to her. “Expansion of the air from lightning causes a sonic shock wave. A boom.”
“See, baby girl,” Wynonna offers softly, kissing the top of Waverly’s head when she drops her cheek onto Wynonna’s shoulder. “Just that boring science crap you like so much.”
The words aren’t even out of her mouth when the next boom cracks above them, and Waverly jumps again, harshly, in spite of Wynonna next to her, but Wynonna is there, calming her, squeezing one of Waverly’s hands in her own.
“Just listen to the rain, Wave,” Wynonna says soothingly, her voice calm, and far, far older than her years. “It’s alright. Just focus on the rain instead.”
She can hear it, pitter-pattering on the windows of the homestead, the regularity and density of it soothing. She wonders whether there will ever be a time she doesn’t jump at the sound of it. She wonders what she’ll do when Wynonna isn’t there to hold her hand through it.
“Close your eyes,” Wynonna whispers, after another boom rumbles in the distance, and Waverly doesn’t jump as badly. “Listen to the rain and close your eyes, Waverly. Go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”
-
She survives without Wynonna. Of course she does. She’s an Earp, after all, she’s stronger than that, but there’s not a thunderstorm that goes by in her childhood without Wynonna where Waverly doesn’t cry, and after a while, she’s not even sure if it’s the thunder anymore that’s more terrifying or her sister’s loss.
Or the fact that she might never come back.
-
The first time she kisses Champ, it’s raining. It’s spitting, stray droplets hitting the windshield of his truck as he leans over the middle console, his breath sweet like cinnamon gum.
It’s not raining heavily, though, not heavily enough, not to wash away the sense of his hands on her cheeks, of rough, hot palms that just didn’t feel quite right.
She’s breathless when she unlocks the door of Gus and Curtis’s, her hair still wet from the rain, a drop rolling over her cheek when she crosses the threshold, but it’s not because of Champ. She’s not sure what it is, when it really comes down to it. She can feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she knows she should be ecstatic - and she’s happy, he’s Champ Hardy, after all, and he kissed her - but something feels off, her happiness capped.
She feels it take root, some seed of melancholy deep in her gut, and it stays, for years , until she forgets about it, until it becomes so much a part of her that she doesn’t recognise the taste of it until it’s shaken free from the soil by a redhead with a thousand-watt smile.
-
The heaviest thunderstorm in years hits Purgatory a month before Nicole Haught comes to town.
The rain is like nothing Waverly has ever seen before: it’s torrential for three days, flooding farms, bursting the bank of every river in the county. It’s too dangerous to drive, too dangerous to do anything outside beyond run for cover when she has to leave the apartment for work.
It doesn’t feel like a malignant kind of rain, though. It’s damaging, sure, but there aren’t any casualties, not even livestock, it’s just rain. Lots and lots of rain. It doesn’t feel mischievous either, like a storm sometimes can, it feels strangely cleansing instead.
Waverly sits by the window and watches the sky open and deliver for most of the storm - almost every second she’s not at work - and it’s transfixing, it’s like she can’t take her eyes off of it. It’s almost as though there’s something in the rain for her, that’s it’s some small sign, a messenger almost, of something to come.
She doesn’t realise until much later, until after she’s felt the touch of Nicole’s skin, until after Nicole has well and truly turned her life upside down that the rain came before her, just before her.
Like maybe Nicole was the thing it had heralded the arrival of.
-
Nicole Haught arrived four days ago, and Waverly has met her exactly three times, but already she knows there’s something different about her.
Good different, to be sure, but different .
She’s not like the people Waverly has grown up with. She’s disciplined, she’s professional, she’s kind . She smiles like she doesn’t have the chip on her shoulder that everyone born here seems to.
Nicole Haught arrived four days ago, on a relatively fine day, but it’s pouring rain again today. Waverly doesn’t think it’s going to last, not like the storm a month ago. This rain feels fleeting instead, passing through for some kind of purpose before it’ll be on its way.
Which would be fine, great even, if Waverly hadn’t been at the store picking up a few supplies to take back out to the homestead, without her Jeep, planning to walk back to the apartment with her purchases and then drive out, when the rain had hit.
As it stands, though, she’s huddled under a bit of cover outside the store, holding a paper bag to her chest, wondering how on earth she’s going to make it home without the bag disintegrating in her arms. She could just leave the bag at the counter and retrieve the Jeep, but that seems a touch like admitting defeat, and Waverly Earp isn’t going to let something like a little bit of rain deter her from her day.
She takes a breath, tensing her core to make a run for it, getting a few feet away from the shelter beside the shop before she runs through a puddle deeper than she’s expecting, splashing water halfway up her thighs, completely soaking the tight pants she has on.
Perfect , she thinks, coming to a standstill in the middle of the road and pouring rain. Just darn perfect .
Waverly’s a second away from beginning her trudge up the road when a car pulls up beside her - a squad car, she thinks, correcting herself. She’s expecting Nedley or one of his deputies to be on the other side of the window when it winds down, but she’s more than a little surprised to see Nicole Haught instead.
“Hey there,” Nicole says easily, warmly, like they’re old friends, and Waverly can’t help the way it makes her heart beat a little quicker.
It’s adrenalin , she reminds herself before her brain can run away on why it would do such a thing. You’re standing in the pouring rain, Waverly. It’s perfectly normal for it to be a little elevated.
“Hi,” Waverly replies a little weakly, adjusting the bag on her hip carefully so she can push a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. “Hi, Deputy.”
“You wanna jump in, or you like standing in the pouring rain?” Nicole asks, the ghost of a smile curling the corners of her mouth up. “I can drop you wherever you need to go?”
“I don’t wanna bother you,” Waverly says in objection, her slightly muddled and confused brain sluggish, trying to compute everything rushing through it. “You’ve got more important things to do, I’m sure.”
“Don’t be silly,” Nicole says, her voice light, her smile broad. “Makin’ sure you don’t float down Main Street is important. Come on, at least get out of the rain for a second, won’t you?”
She reaches over, unlocking the passenger door, pushing it open for Waverly, and with minimal hesitation, Waverly slides down into the seat, leaning back against the headrest with a slightly exhausted sigh.
“Thank you,” Waverly offers after a second, once the white buzz of the lack of rain pelting her settles. “God, I’m going to soak this seat through, though. I just need a second, then I’ll make a run for it again.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nicole scoffs, reaching down and into a small bag by Waverly’s feet, coming back up with a small towel that she holds out for Waverly. “Water is hardly the worst thing to grace the inside of this car. And there’s no way you’re walking home. It’ll take me two seconds to drive you.”
Waverly hesitates again, not wanting to further inconvenience Nicole by delaying her and soaking a towel, but Nicole takes her delay for something else.
“Oh, god. I’m sorry,” Nicole says, shaking her head. “It’s clean. I just… I thought I might need it today, is all. Saw the weather forecast this morning. Didn’t think I’d have the luxury of a wet weather day inside, especially not being the newest kid on the block. I was kinda anticipating having to get soaked at some point.”
“Oh, no, it’s not that,” Waverly replies quickly, shaking her head. “I just… I don’t want to impose. And what if you need it later on? I can’t leave you with a wet towel if you need it?”
“It’s almost the end of my shift,” Nicole beams back at her. “I don’t think I’ll need it. It’s all yours. If you want it, that is.”
“You’re sure?” Waverly asks, hoping the actual keenness for it doesn’t show too clearly on her face, the fabric of her clothes starting to stick unpleasantly to her skin.
“Positive,” Nicole returns with a grin, smiling when Waverly takes the towel from her, pressing it straight over her face.
“I was only in the rain for a minute, I swear,” Waverly says, her voice muffled by the softness of the towel. “How am I this wet?”
“A water magnet, huh?” Nicole asks her, and Waverly can’t help but notice how she looks like she’s almost glowing in the confines of the car, even with the grey background outside.
The red of her hair looks warm today, Waverly feels warm in the presence of it even. It takes Nicole’s lip turning in a smile for Waverly to realise she’s staring, and she looks away quickly, back to the towel in her hands.
“I guess so,” Waverly laughs, hoping desperately that Nicole can’t sense her nervousness while knowing full well that she probably can. She drags the towel down her neck, catching Nicole watching her out of the corner of her eye. “Not so sure that’s a desirable trait, though.”
“I don’t know, it’s not a half bad party trick,” Nicole says with a smirk, as though this might become an inside joke between them. Somewhere, Waverly hopes it will. “And hey, not many people would be able to pull off that look and still look nice, so…”
The compliment hangs like a weight in the air between them, suspended by Waverly’s disbelief at it - it’s not like she hears them with any regularity from anyone else.
“Anyway,” Nicole says quickly, shaking her head and a change of topic into the light tension in the car. “Where to, Miss Earp?”
“Really, I can walk,” Waverly tries again, the blush creeping up her neck as she towels her arms. “It’s like, a block over.”
“How about I drive and you point?” Nicole says, obviously set on giving her a lift regardless. “Team effort? And I don’t care if it’s twenty feet up the road, alright? I’m here for anything okay?”
It’s a simple enough comment, but it catches Waverly off guard, because despite knowing next to nothing about this Nicole Haught, Waverly knows that she means that, she really means it.
“Thank you,” Waverly says simply, turning her head to look at Nicole, fighting the sudden rush of exhaustion pulling at her limbs as the rush of adrenalin fades from her blood. “Oh, and left.”
She takes a moment to look at Nicole while she’s concentrating on turning the corner, while she has the freedom to do so without being caught staring. She’s striking , Waverly thinks as she studies Nicole in profile, her jaw clenched in concentration as she turns the wheel. She’s beautiful.
Not that Waverly’s thinking about that .
“You’re welcome,” Nicole returns, turning to Waverly with a smile that warms, as much as the sight of her hair does, beaming, reaching Nicole’s eyes.
She’s beautiful .
Not that Waverly’s thinking about that at all .
-
“Are you sure you’re happy here?” Nicole asks from her kitchen counter, looking over to Waverly, who is currently sitting at the table, the remains of their takeout spread in front of her, waiting for Nicole to join her with the beers she’s currently popping the tops off.
Nicole’s voice flows a little nervously as she looks over to Waverly for confirmation, the emotion visible in her eyes. It’s still evident sometimes, a flicker of something in Nicole’s eyes when she and Waverly are alone. Like Waverly makes her a little nervous.
The sheer thought of that is ridiculous, of course, because it’s Waverly who should be nervous. It’s Waverly who has no idea what she’s doing. It’s Waverly who has two feet solidly in the unknown. It’s been a week since they kissed in Nedley's office, since Waverly smothered her fear and risked everything , and what a pay off she’s received in return.
They’ve had a few coffee dates during the day since then, but this is the first date , date. They were supposed to go out somewhere nice until the rain had started in the early afternoon, heavy curtains of it, and when it hadn’t shown any sign of ceasing, Waverly had suggested a slight change of plans instead.
“More than,” Waverly says, utterly fascinated by the volume of new information to take in around her, at being inside Nicole’s home for the first time. “As long as this isn’t…”
“It’s great, Waverly,” Nicole says smoothly, no trace of nervousness when she slides into her seat across from Waverly, handing her a beer. “Perfect even. It’s nice to have you here.”
“It’s nice to be here,” Waverly says a little shyly. She means it, though. She really means it. It feels different, being here, compared to how she always felt at Champ’s. There was always expectation hanging in the air then, thick and heavy, but there’s nothing like that here, just Nicole’s warmth, only Nicole’s warmth.
“I thought maybe we could watch something?” Nicole suggests, and it’s there, a flicker of nervousness again as her eyes shift to the couch. “But, if you’d rather I just dropped you home, that’s absolutely-“
“I’d love to,” Waverly says quickly, unable to stop the grin on her face. “I’d…”
The rain chooses that moment to pelt down even harder, the force of it loud enough to distract Waverly from her reply, and she trails off, smiling at Nicole in the face of it. There’s something immensely relaxing about hearing it so heavy while she’s so warm here, while she feels so safe.
They move over to the couch after they tidy up, decide on a movie, fetch a couple of blankets, and turn all the lights off, and Waverly’s about to take her seat next to Nicole on the couch when the first crack of thunder booms above them.
She jumps at the sound, she still jumps at the sound, even all these years later. She’s never really gotten over her fear of it. Champ had never stopped making fun of it, and she knows Nicole won’t be the same, but she hates how weak it makes her seem, all the same.
“Are you okay?” Nicole asks, concerned, and she’s up out of her seat, her hand at Waverly’s elbow gently. “Is everything-“
“It’s fine,” Waverly assures her, shaking her head, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. “I’m fine, I promise. It’s silly, it’s just…something I’ve always been afraid of.”
“It’s not silly,” Nicole says, and her voice is kind, but it’s firm, too, like she wants Waverly to know she doesn’t think it is whatsoever. “It’s not, Wave. Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” Waverly replies with a shake of her head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. Let’s just put the movie on. A distraction will be good.”
Nicole nods; she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t push, she just takes her seat on the couch, lifting the blanket to make room for Waverly to slide in next to her. They fit together so perfectly, Waverly has been surprised by how much, by how the space at Nicole’s side seems to have been made just for her.
She draws her legs up onto the couch, off the floor, their proximity to her chest making her feel a little easier, giving her the confidence to slide her arm through Nicole’s next to her, squeezing tight. She feels Nicole’s breath hold next to her, and wonders if her heart rate is as high as Waverly’s own.
The movie plays for another ten minutes or so before the next crack of thunder sounds, this one much closer, much louder, and try as she might, Waverly can’t stop half-jolting, even with Nicole so close. She feels ridiculous, it’s childish to be afraid of something so logical, so natural, but the next boom sounds, and Waverly is five years old and terrified, waiting for Wynonna to come and find her in the dark.
This is the part where Champ would have teased her, would have made some joke about needing someone strong to protect her, about how important his obvious masculinity was in that moment, that wouldn’t Waverly be lost without him, but Nicole doesn’t do any of that.
She unthreads her arm from Waverly’s instead, holding it up, and Waverly understands that Nicole’s offering her the protection of her body, that if Waverly wants, she can settle properly into Nicole’s side, with Nicole’s arm around her shoulders, but the look in Nicole’s eye says it’s okay, too, if she doesn’t want to, if she wants to stay where they are.
Waverly doesn’t need to hesitate for a second to decide, though. She moves almost as soon as Nicole looks her in the eye, lifting Nicole’s arm up a little higher with her hand so she can hold Nicole’s hand once her arm settles across Waverly’s shoulders, once she wriggles a little to find the perfect spot tucked beneath Nicole’s arm.
She looks up to Nicole once she’s settled, raising her hand, running her thumb along Nicole’s jaw, drawing Nicole in so Waverly can kiss her softly. It’s supposed to be chaste, the kiss, it’s supposed to be a gentle thank you but the magnitude of Nicole’s thoughtfulness floors Waverly, and she’s driven by a deep need to prolong it.
Nicole’s hand settles over her cheek when Waverly runs her tongue over Nicole’s bottom lip with a barely there touch, and it grounds them both, causing Waverly to finally break the kiss.
“The movie….” Waverly says weakly, leaning her forehead against Nicole’s, but she’s already moving, sliding a thigh over Nicole’s. She doesn’t know what this means, or what she’s doing, but Nicole does, and that’s all that matters.
“We can rewind,” Nicole breathes, her hands sliding over Waverly’s hips, looking at Waverly like she can’t believe this is happening, blinking as if to raise herself from a dream.
Maybe it’s not. Maybe this is all a dream. It’s good enough to be. Maybe it doesn’t matter either way.
The rain starts, harder than before, heavier, as Nicole’s hands flex, draw her closer. Thunder rattles the walls of her chest with the next crack, but Waverly doesn’t jump this time.
Maybe it doesn’t matter either way at all.
-
Waverly’s back hits the side of the homestead first, before Nicole’s thigh slides between her own, and her weight follows, pressing against Waverly deliciously as Nicole’s lips find her neck and her hands press on either side of Waverly’s head.
It’s a summer storm, the light of the sun escaping through a gap in the clouds occasionally, throwing a bright flash of red through Nicole’s hair. They’d been in a field away from the house when the rain hit, and it should have made them anything but giddy, but it fills their veins, floods them with it instead.
Waverly’s hands move into Nicole’s hair when she kisses a messy trail up the column of Waverly’s neck to her mouth, groaning when Nicole’s tongue slips into her mouth, when Nicole’s hands move her top up her stomach.
“Inside,” Waverly grins against Nicole’s lips when her hand creeps higher. Her hair is stuck to her face in thick rivulets, but she doesn’t care. “Get me out of these wet clothes.”
-
It’s sometime after midnight when the rain starts.
It’s been coming for days, Waverly has been able to smell it on the air, the scent sweet, but watered down, and there’s a relief in it finally breaking now, when she’s wrapped up warm with Nicole, her arm draped over Waverly’s waist and her breath light and rhythmic on the back of Waverly’s neck.
She can hear the deep boom of distant thunder, but it doesn’t scare her now, not anymore, not like it used to.
Nicole rouses behind her, brought from sleep by Waverly’s wakefulness. “Baby?” Nicole asks, her voice gravelly with sleep, but deep with concern like it always is in a storm.
“I’m okay,” Waverly says, breathing in when the rain hits the windows of her bedroom - of their bedroom - breathing out when the thunder comes, at ease with it now, taking it into her veins alongside the oxygen from her lungs.
It’s different now, the visceral sound fathoms above them, the pressure change. There’s a peace in it now. She can see that, warm and safe in Nicole’s arms.
“I’m okay.”
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