Work Text:
Purgatory: (adj.) having the quality of cleansing or purifying
"If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much." -- Mary Oliver
Waverly wasn’t that worried— really she wasn’t. Nicole could be an inconsistent texter, especially if she was having a hectic day at work. She didn’t take it personally. After all, there were plenty of times when the opposite happened— nights when Waverly was the one tied up in Earp Heir or Black Badge matters and Nicole was the one sending fifteen unanswered texts or three unheard voicemails in a row. Sometimes, things just got busy and a little crazy. That was the nature of Purgatory.
Still, today had sounded like an extra-crazy day. Nicole’s text-based responses had been infrequent and strange— sometimes comically vague, overly diplomatic responses to questions, other times clipped, stressed-sounding rants about her job. From the latter, Waverly had gathered that it had been a day full of loud complaints and bizarre, difficult calls— including something about “two naked Steves in a gulch,” whatever the hell that meant (Waverly’s reigning theory was a series of wildly off-base Autocorrects, but she would have to confirm that later).
But now the work day was over, and Nicole had fallen eerily silent again. She was probably just taking a long shower or something, but still, they hadn’t seen each other all day, and obviously Nicole had had a rough shift. And just recently, without any fanfare or any hesitation, Nicole had given her a key to her house.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to give you this.”
“Is this to your house?”
“Yeah. I just thought you should have one.”
“Like, in case you lock yourself out or something?”
“Well, I guess. But I was just thinking, so that you could come and go even if I’m not there to let you in. Is that okay?”
The timing felt sudden, but it probably shouldn’t have— over time, after their fight about Black Badge, and especially since the Mictian’s eviction, things between them had been… changing. Deepening, somehow. They were spending more days together, and definitely more nights together. Waverly caught herself talking more and more about her past, about her crazy childhood and crazier family, about how much it meant to her to have Wynonna home, to live in the homestead again, to finally talk about the Heir and the Revenants, out loud, for once.
Nicole was more reticent about her past, and usually claimed it had been boring and not worth talking about. Still, every so often Waverly managed to pry a story or two loose, and each time it felt like a victory. And surely Nicole must be feeling it, too, if she had decided to give her a key, to officially let her into her space, into her world.
Waverly hadn’t really had a reason to use it yet, but this seemed like a prime opportunity to give that key a test-drive. She picked up an order of Chinese takeout and drove to Nicole’s house, pleased with herself at the idea of taking care of her best baby for once, instead of the other way around.
She parked in Nicole’s driveway alongside her patrol car and hopped down from her Jeep, paper bags in hand. She could feel the key burning a hole in her pocket as she climbed the softly creaking porch steps. When she got to the front door and pulled it out, for just a second, she wondered if it wouldn’t work, if it was all some cosmic joke and she would just end up stranded on Nicole’s porch with too much food and too little dignity.
But of course those fears were in vain, and the key slid right into the lock and let her into the house.
The first thing that greeted her was an affronted yowl as Calamity Jane charged at her.
“Hey, Calamity, it’s okay, it’s just me,” she cooed, kneeling down to greet the distressed cat. Calamity turned her fluffy orange tail and trotted into the kitchen, then sat framed in the doorway and glared. “What, didn’t Nicole feed you yet? Actually, where is—”
It didn’t take much searching to locate Nicole— as soon as Waverly stepped fully into the room, she spotted her. Nicole was still in the front room, still in full uniform, asleep face-down on the couch. It looked like she had come straight through the door and just collapsed on the spot. Her boots were discarded by the door, her hat on the coat rack, her gun belt on the coffee table, but otherwise she was, in her entirety, down for the count.
Waverly smiled sadly at the sight. Her poor, overworked baby.
She tiptoed into the kitchen and fed an impatient Calamity Jane, then fixed a plate of food for each of them (borrowing a spoonful of peanut butter from Nicole’s pantry) and set them on the coffee table (after gently relocating the gun belt to its safe for the night). It was tempting to just let Nicole sleep, and even more tempting to try and join her, but the couch was not big enough for her to sneak in beside Nicole without waking her. And besides, Nicole was probably hungry after her long shift.
She knelt beside the couch and pushed a curtain of the red hair away from Nicole’s face and pressed her lips to the skin that was revealed, just by her ear.
“Wake up, baby, it’s just me. You fell asleep on your couch.”
Nicole shifted, mumbling something unintelligible. Her face turned, her bewildered eyes blinking in the light. Waverly giggled at her flummoxed expression and mussed hair and pressed another kiss to her forehead, then to her cheek.
“Waves?” Nicole murmured, before Waverly finally touched down on her lips. She seemed to kiss back more on instinct than anything, and continued to blink drowsily as Waverly sat back.
“There’d better not be anyone else kissing you awake,” Waverly said, playfully warning.
“No, of course not, I just—“ Nicole cut herself off with a huge yawn, smothering it in her sleeve. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
She dragged herself upright, looking down at her (adorably, in Waverly’s opinion) sleep-rumpled uniform in dismay.
“Well, you had a rough day. I’m not surprised you needed to just…” Waverly nodded to the couch. “…crash afterwards.”
Nicole continued to slowly absorb the room around her. She blinked at the steaming plates on the coffee table in surprise.
“Did you bring food?”
“Yeah, I thought you were probably hungry and maybe not in the mood to cook.”
“Right on both counts. Um… thanks.” She pulled her plate towards her and, without another word, began eating. Waverly watched her for a moment, then followed suit. Something about the situation still felt off— Nicole’s voice was a little too flat, her expression was closed and hard to read. Waverly watched her out of the corner of her eye, hoping that with a little sleep and a meal under her belt, Nicole’s bright, warm personality would start to bouce back.
But their plates were finished, and then second plates were finished, and Nicole had still barely said more than two full sentences.
It was starting to feel unsettling. Usually, Nicole would be laid back and chatting with her, telling a funny story from work or asking about her day. Or sometimes they would be quiet, but it wouldn’t feel… like this. It wouldn’t come with this feeling, like maybe Waverly was intruding, maybe she shouldn’t have used the key, maybe she should have called first. Maybe Nicole wasn’t just tired from work, maybe there was something Waverly had said or done that had upset her, but she couldn’t think of anything.
The silent, broody figure in the police uniform, radiating negativity, reminded her, fleetingly, and maybe a little unfairly, of her father (or the man she had assumed was her father, before all this). Just for a moment, before she shook the memory off in favor of her much-nicer present.
“Are you okay?” Waverly asked gently. “You’re being weirdly quiet.”
Nicole gave a tired sigh that made Waverly regret asking. She thought again, briefly, of Ward Earp, passed out on the couch, his uniform rumpled, tired and angry. But Nicole didn’t smell like alcohol. And Nicole wasn’t a drunk, or an asshole, or an abuser, and she didn’t deserve that comparison, intentional or not.
“Yeah, I’m just… in a crappy mood, and I didn’t want to take it out on you or say the wrong thing. Guess I screwed that up, too.” She rubbed at her face like she was trying to wipe away the stormclouds. “I’m sorry. When I was leaving work, I thought I might go for a walk, just to clear my head. And maybe that’s still a good idea. I just don’t want to make you feel like you have to come with if it’s something you don’t want to do, or like if you don’t come with I’m leaving you behind and you have to just stay here and wait for me, or—”
“Hey,” Waverly gently interrupted her increasingly hard-to-follow stream of consciousness spiral. She had heard enough to know that Nicole’s bad mood was nothing like certain other uniformed people in her past. Nicole after a bad day was, at worst, sulky and a little grumpy. And self-aware enough to try and do something about it, instead of just wallowing in it all evening. “Of course you can go for a walk if you think that would help. And I’ll come with you if you want me to, but it’s okay if you’d rather be alone.”
Nicole’s arms were braced on her knees, and she folded them and buried her face there, hiding it from view.
“I’d always rather have you around,” Nicole told Waverly via her own knees, sounding more miserable than angry or annoyed. “But you don’t have to—“
Waverly rested a hand on her back and felt some of the tension leave her in a sigh.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
“I know I’m lousy company right now,” Nicole warned her.
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Waverly scratched playfully between her shoulders. “Now come on, Deputy Haught, as much as I love you in uniform, you’ll need to change if we’re going anywhere. I’ll clean up down here.”
Nicole looked like she was on the verge of arguing, but capitulated at the last second, nodding and pulling herself to her feet. She disappeared up the stairs while Waverly made quick work of their dishes and stuck the leftovers in the fridge.
Then, after a moment’s debate, she followed Nicole upstairs.
She reached Nicole’s bedroom in time to find her mostly dressed, now in jeans and a blue T-shirt, slipping on a red plaid flannel. She watched as Nicole spent a few long moments making sure the shirt hung evenly and then meticulously rolled the sleeves into cuffs. Finally, she noticed Waverly in the doorway.
“Are those clothes going to be okay?” Nicole asked her. Waverly looked down. She was wearing some, admittedly, rather tight jeans and a cropped shirt. “You can borrow something of mine if want.”
“Do I need to? Where are we going?” When Nicole had said ‘walk,’ she had pictured a walk around the neighborhood, or maybe the city park.
“I was thinking the Spirit Creek Trail,” Nicole said. “Is that okay?”
Waverly took a moment to recalibrate ‘go for a walk’ into ‘go for a hike.’ Spirit Creek was a short tributary of the eastern branch of the Ghost River. (No one ever accused Purgatorians of being good at naming things, as “Big Deep Lake” could attest.)
“It shouldn’t be muddy or anything,” Nicole was quick to assure her. “And like I said, you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to,” Waverly repeated herself, feeling like a broken record. She went to Nicole’s closet to look through the clothes for something anywhere near her size. “I have a feeling most of these would be a little long on me.”
She briefly imagined herself in a pair of Nicole’s sweatpants, six inches of fabric pooling around her feet. Not ideal hiking clothes. Some of the shirts might be a closer fit, but it didn’t seem worth the trouble of changing.
“Maybe,” Nicole admitted. “You know, you can keep some clothes here if you want, for when you stay over. I already cleared out a few drawers. That way you wouldn’t always have to drive back out to the Homestead all the time.”
Waverly froze in place, still holding onto one of Nicole’s shirts. First, she got a key. Now she got a drawer? Multiple drawers, even?
Her mind suddenly started drawing new connections to things she had considered innocuous at the time— extra blankets appearing sporadically in Nicole’s house, or almond milk appearing in her fridge. A kitchen cupboard that seemed to magically stock itself with all her favorite kinds of tea and snacks. Bottles of her usual soap and shampoo suddenly sitting by the shower.
As if Nicole were trying to make it a comfortable space for her. As if she were trying to show how much she wanted her there.
What a concept.
“Waves?”
Waverly realized she had gone quiet for too long, and Nicole looked worried, maybe that she had moved too fast or said too much.
“Oh. Uh, yeah, I could probably bring some things over,” she said, swallowing the sentimental lump in her throat. They could talk about those kinds of things later. Soon. But right now, Nicole was stressed and tired and maybe a little moody, and all of the heavy conversations, even the happy ones, could wait.
Nicole tried to insist on driving, but Waverly overruled her, shoving her gently towards the passenger side of her jeep. She was obviously tired, and who knew how many hours she had spent in a patrol car today. And Waverly had lived in this one little area her entire life, thank you very much, and she knew perfectly well how to get to the local trailheads.
Nicole was silent for the entire drive, and it still wasn’t quite the warm, comfortable silence Waverly was used to between them. Nicole was usually good at silence— they could spend hours sitting near each other on the couch or in bed, Waverly reading, Nicole watching her— but this silence radiated tension, and Nicole’s leg jogged restlessly the whole time. She seemed simultaneously exhausted and wired.
Waverly absently tapped her fingers against the steering wheel in time with the radio, a local pop station that helped fill the silence. She thought about turning it off— she still didn’t have a firm grasp on Nicole’s music tastes— but Nicole didn’t seem to be listening. Her brown eyes were watching out the passenger window, staring aimlessly as houses and trees and storefronts slid in and out of view.
They exited the jeep at the trailhead and Nicole shouldered her backpack, which she had insisted on bringing even though this stretch of trail was barely over a kilometer long. Without a word (but after a pause to make sure Waverly was ready), Nicole took the lead, setting off down the well-packed trail. Waverly followed, and the forest swallowed them both.
Waverly wasn’t much of an outdoorsy person, by most measures. Alberta was cold, and she strongly preferred her outdoor activities to be brief, or else to involve porch swings and thick blankets and toasty fires. Mama had always taken Wynonna camping when they were kids, but Waverly had never been invited along, no matter how badly she had wanted to be included (and no matter how badly she didn’t want to be left alone in their house with just Daddy and Willa).
But this wasn’t so bad. The day was warm, but not oppressively hot, and the trees gave them plenty of shade. Nicole navigated the paths easily and, despite her longer stride and sour mood, was courteous enough to not leave Waverly behind.
The woods, even the thinner parts of it that abutted the town, were dense and lush, but the trail was well-maintained. It wasn't exactly a stroll down the sidewalk, but it was probably an overstatement to call it hiking.
It was darker on the trail than it had been on the drive over, the light dappled by the canopy of leaves overhead. The air was cooler, and a little humid, and smelled like pine and earth and decomposing leaves (though not in a bad way). Even Waverly, who hadn't had a particularly stressful day, found herself calmed by the walk.
It wasn’t a hard walk, even for Waverly in her day clothes. But it was still something to watch Nicole. She kept up a steady, comfortable gait even on the uneven ground, unfazed by dips in the path or gnarled roots that threatened to trip up their feet. Even if Waverly hadn’t known that Nicole was an avid hiker, she probably could have guessed just from watching her. (And not just because of the plaid flannel, the backpack, and the baseball cap, although that didn’t hurt either.)
Still, Nicole didn’t make conversation as they walked. Waverly mirrored her, not interrupting the silence between them.
Waverly had imagined that it would be quiet there in the woods, and it was, in a way. But in reality, there were sounds coming from every angle— their shoes crunching through leaf litter on the ground, the snap of a twig in the distance, the call of a bird above, the scrabble of a squirrel on a tree, the susurrus of the wind in the branches.
Once they’d been at it for a few minutes, Nicole did start to noticeably slow her stride, chipping away at her lead until finally they were walking together again.
“Is this okay?” Nicole asked, after they had been side-by-side again for a few minutes. Waverly surveyed her face, hoping to see any signs of improvement. Nicole still looked stressed, and the little wrinkle between her eyebrows was still firmly in place, but she carried herself a little more lightly, Waverly thought.
“Of course,” Waverly said. They hadn’t been walking for that long yet, really, but Nicole still looked a little relieved by her answer.
They only exchanged about ten more words before they reached the end of the trail, a small lookout point on the bank of Spirit Creek. It was a flat section of packed dirt and sparse grass, with two benches farther back. But Nicole walked past the benches, dropped her backpack to the ground, and sank down to sit in the grass.
It was a little funny— as fastidious as Nicole could be with her uniform, careful to keep it free of stains and crumbs and dust, here she was plopping down into the dirt with absolutely no sense of self-consciousness. With only the tiniest instinct of reluctance, Waverly joined her, crouching down and sitting next to her on the ground.
Now that they were holding still, Waverly gave her girlfriend a good, thorough once-over. Nicole was watching the river flow downstream. Her breathing was deep and slow, and her shoulders were less clenched than they had been at the house.
“There’s water in the backpack, if you want any,” Nicole offered after a long moment. Her voice had changed. It sounded softer now, like it had lost some of its edge.
Waverly considered the offer, then reached for the backpack and pulled it to her. She opened it up, in spite of the tense evening, giggled incredulously at the contents. Most prominently, there was a hatchet, its blade sheathed in a bespoke piece of leather, as though Nicole might need to do some impromptu lumberjacking while they were less than a mile away from Purgatory’s main road. Besides the hatchet, there was an enormous metal flashlight, a large folding knife, what looked like two different types of multitool, a box of spare ammo, a small first aid kit, a spare pair of socks in a waterproof bag, a length of rope, a pair of some kind of metal spikes with eyelets at one end, a rain poncho, a can of bear spray, two granola bars, and finally… yes, a stainless steel water bottle. She couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled it out and unscrewed the lid.
“What?” Nicole asked her curiously.
“You have… a hatchet?” Waverly giggled. “And bear spray? Why? This isn’t exactly Banff.”
“No, but it is Purgatory. I’d rather have bear spray and not need it than need it and not have it.” Her voice could have been described as defensive, but it was softened by the almost childish pout on her face. Waverly had to concede the point, but didn’t stop chuckling until she had finished with the water and was tucking it back into the pack.
As she zipped it back up, she caught Nicole looking off to the side, at a tall, rocky outcropping a little ways upriver, with a slightly wistful look in her eye.
“Did you want to go up there?” Waverly asked. Nicole shifted her attention back.
“What? I mean, no, it’s fine.”
Waverly gave her a skeptical look, but didn’t fight her on it.
“Okay, if you’re sure…”
They sat for awhile longer, the silence between them more companionable than it had been in the car, but Waverly saw her gaze drift once again from the river up to the boulder that towered over the water.
“We can go up there if you want,” Waverly tried again. Again, Nicole’s attention snapped back.
“Oh, uh, no. No, it’s fine.” She shook her head. “I sit up there sometimes when I come out here on my own, but I’m not going to make you climb up there, especially in your regular clothes.”
Waverly playfully rolled her eyes.
“It’s not a mountain, it’s a biggish rock. I think I can manage.”
“I know you can, I just mean you don’t have to.”
“Nicole, let’s go climb the rock. Come on.” Waverly stood and held her hand down for Nicole to take. Her girlfriend looked adorably flummoxed, but eventually caved and accepted Waverly’s hand up, re-shouldering her backpack.
Nicole led the way off-path over to the craggy rock. It really wasn’t even that tall, and it sloped towards the top. It would be barely harder than climbing a ladder.
“It’s really not that bad. I’ll go up first and then if you need a hand up, I can—”
Waverly cut her off with a hand on her arm.
“Sweetie, it’s like three meters up, tops, and the whole thing is handholds. Just climb.”
Nicole nodded and assumed a starting position, her feet against the base of the rock, her hands finding two solid grips. Waverly found herself watching admiringly as she easily ascended. Her ascent looked smooth and comfortable, her form professional, and she was at the top in a matter of seconds.
She leaned over the edge and peered down at Waverly from atop the boulder.
“Are you sure you want to—” she started.
“Yes,” Waverly said, fully exasperated by this point. “I’m totally sure. You can stop asking.”
She started up the boulder, a little less gracefully than Nicole, but still without much trouble. As her hand found the flat top of the rock, she felt Nicole grasp her arm and haul her the last few feet.
They tumbled backwards together and lay in a heap, Waverly splayed halfway over Nicole, who kept a steady grip on her arm to stabilize her.
“You okay?” Nicole asked. Waverly groaned slightly as she pulled herself upright, but patted Nicole’s leg reassuringly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Like I said, that was nothing.”
The short climb had been worth it. Up there, the view was clearer. Even the air smelled clearer— more stone and water than soil.
Nicole climbed to the edge of the rock, the part that barely hung over the slow-moving river, and dangled her long legs off the side. She slipped the backpack off and set it behind her, out of danger of falling. Waverly hung back for a minute, giving her a little space to breathe. And watching her.
Now this was Nicole in her element.
For the first time all evening, the tight, simmering tension seemed to unwind. Waverly could see the rise and fall of Nicole’s body as she breathed, and with each breath, she seemed a little looser. Her shoulders relaxed. Her arms went slack. Her head tipped back to breathe the cool air. It was like Waverly could see the tension of the day sloughing off, falling off the stone’s edge, down into the flowing river.
After a few minutes, as Waverly’s lower half started to go a bit numb from sitting on the hard rock, she shifted up into a crouch and crept over to sit nearer (although she didn’t dare dangle her legs over the edge, or look down from the outcropping).
Nicole turned her head towards her as she approached, and smiled— actually smiled, for the first time all day, Waverly realized as she saw it. The sight of it was a relief, like seeing the sun after a day of pouring rain.
“Feeling better?” Waverly asked.
“Yeah, a little,” Nicole said. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, then went back to her long, peaceful survey of the forest and river from their superior vantage point. Waverly enjoyed the view of the trees and the water, but mostly enjoyed the view of Nicole enjoying them.
Or at least she enjoyed it until her legs started going numb again and she was forced to keep shifting her position— first onto her knees, which just hurt more and made her cold, then into a crouch, which gave her feet pins-and-needles, and then back to cross-legged.
“Are you okay?” Nicole asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Nicole watched her thoughtfully for a moment. Then, she shifted a few inches back and patted her lap.
“Come here,” she beckoned enticingly. Waverly shook her head slowly.
“No way. I’d just crush you into the rock, and if either of us slipped, it’d be a long way down.”
Nicole laughed and beckoned her again.
“It’s totally safe, I promise. If it makes you feel better, I can secure us with a rope, but honestly, it’ll be fine. I swear.”
Waverly was wary of the offer, and warier of their height, but she followed Nicole’s gesture, first sitting next to her, and then carefully, carefully climbing into her lap, guided by her hands.
Once she was seated there, she had to admit that Nicole had a point— she felt stable, especially with Nicole’s arms looped securely around her, and it was a lot more comfortable and a lot warmer than sitting on the bare rock. Nicole cuddled her close, nuzzling their heads together.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Nicole murmured into her hair. “I know it hasn’t been the funnest excursion in the world.”
“It’s been fine,” Waverly said, getting more and more exasperated by the guilt in Nicole’s eyes. “We’re out here together, we’ve got this nice view… What’s not to like?”
“Well, still… when we get home, we can do something that you want to do, okay?”
Waverly thought about arguing, but she sensed that she wouldn’t win. And if this made Nicole feel less guilty about Waverly’s perceived inconvenience, then fine. Waverly would find something for them to do when they got home. Maybe something involving a bottle of wine.
In the meantime, she leaned into Nicole’s warmth and relaxed as birds chirped and cawed around them and crickets chirred below them.
It was pretty peaceful up there, especially in this new position. She could feel Nicole relaxing more and more, her breathing becoming slower and deeper, her movements becoming softer and lighter.
“I see why you like it here,” Waverly said. Nicole hummed her agreement.
“It’s not as nice as getting to actually go up into the mountains, but it’s pretty nice. And a lot closer and easier to get to.”
“Do you go into the mountains a lot?” Waverly asked curiously.
“Not as much as I’d like anymore. Things get busy, and sometimes crazy, and I don’t like to be too far away, you know?”
“Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t take a break sometimes. If you need to get away and breathe for awhile.” Waverly kissed her cheek. “I can even come with you if you want.”
“You want to learn how to climb?” Nicole asked, sounding surprised. Waverly wrinkled her nose a little at the thought.
“I was imagining it more as a spectator sport,” she admitted. The thought of climbing a rock wall with only a harness to save her from a gruesome falling death was infinitely less appealing than that of sitting on a blanket with a picnic lunch and watching Nicole perform those kinds of athletic feats. “I would get to watch and applaud and lust after you while you heroically climb the mountains.”
Nicole looked equal parts amused and intrigued by this idea.
“Oh yeah?” she asked, a slightly cocky twist to her mouth. “Lust after me?”
“And applaud. And talk about how strong and brave you are.”
“Hmm…” Nicole said thoughtfully. “That sounds like it could be fun. Are you sure you wouldn’t get bored, just watching?”
“You know… I don’t get bored half as easily as you seem to think I do.” Waverly pressed a kiss to her jawline. “You said you’d always rather have me around?” She pressed another kiss higher up, under her ear. “You really think I don’t feel the same way?”
Nicole made a soft whimpering noise in the back of her throat as Waverly nipped a sensitive spot under her ear, and her legs shifted reflexively. Which was about the point that Waverly realized she probably shouldn’t be sexually teasing the person whose sense of stability was the only thing keeping them both from falling into a river.
She shifted her position a little more sideways and rested her head against Nicole’s shoulder, her face half-hidden against her neck. Nicole smelled like fresh air and light sweat and always, always somehow like vanilla-dipped donuts (which defied all reason, but Waverly would die defending that hill). Nicole kept her arms around her and they both embraced the silence. Waverly drifted into something like meditation, lulled by the sound of Nicole’s breathing and the distant trickle of the river.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she felt Nicole move again, pressing a kiss near the corner of her eye.
“Ready to go home?” Nicole murmured in her ear. Her voice sounded different than it had earlier that day. It sounded calmer, softer, more like herself— like all the ragged edges had been smoothed back down.
“If you are,” Waverly said, honestly ambivalent about whether they stayed or left. She was immensely comfortable in Nicole’s lap with the sounds of nature all around them, but there were other creature comforts to be had at home as well.
At Nicole’s nod of assent, Waverly gingerly removed herself from her lap and they both climbed back down from the rock— Nicole’s descent once again more smooth and graceful. Waverly suspected there really would be some appeal to watching her climb an actual mountain. They would have to try that soon. A mini road trip, with music and snacks and lots of photos.
Waverly’s own descent was less of a graceful downclimb and more of a barely-controlled skid, but Nicole’s arms caught her at the end of it, cushioning her impact and filling her with a feeling of safety.
The walk back was still quiet compared to their usual intermittent chatting, but at least this time the quiet seemed peaceful. It felt like whatever burden Nicole had been carrying all day (not counting the hatchet, flashlight, bear spray, etc.), she had left it by the river.
When they got back to the car, Nicole tried to insist on driving, but Waverly refused to give up that ground. But when they finally pulled back up to Nicole’s house, Nicole put her foot down.
“Please. Waves, I dragged you all the way out to the river for no good reason. Let me make it up to you. I mean it, anything you want to do.”
Waverly rolled her eyes mock-dramatically.
“You make it sound like you had me at gunpoint. We didn’t hike through broken glass, it was a city park trail.” But Nicole’s doe-eyed, pleading expression didn’t abate, and so finally Waverly sighed. “Fine. I’ll think of something.”
And that was how, ten minutes later, Waverly found herself in Nicole’s master bathroom, filling a bathtub with hot water while Nicole quickly showered.
“You realized that showering before you take a bath kind of defeats the point, right?” Waverly asked, raising her voice so that it carried through the glass of the shower door.
“Trust me, it’s called for. I’ve got like five different layers of sweat on me from today,” Nicole argued back. She emerged a minute later, toweling off just enough to keep from dripping all over the bathroom floor. Waverly handed her a glass of wine.
“Bath’s almost ready.”
Nicole took a long sip from the glass and nodded appreciatively.
“So I see. It smells good.”
“It should.” There was rose-scented foam floating on the surface of the bath, and vanilla-scented candles flickering nearby. She gestured for Nicole to get in. “You first.” Nicole’s height meant that she would need the most leg room.
Without argument, Nicole carefully stepped into the tub, hissing at the heat.
“Too hot?” Waverly asked, but Nicole shook her head.
“Almost, but I think it’s okay.” She slid down into the water, a layer of foam very rudely hiding her body from Waverly’s view. Waverly found herself suddenly reconsidering her opinion on bubbles. “Yeah, it’s hot, but it’s good.”
Eager to get to the good part, she stepped into the tub as well, and Nicole was right— the water was just short of scalding… which, in Waverly’s opinion, was exactly the temperature bathwater should be at.
She settled back against Nicole’s front and felt a pair of arms wrap around her, loosely holding her in place. She leaned over the edge of the tub just far enough to pick up the book she had brought and her glass of wine, and she settled back, all at once perfectly content with all of her life choices.
“Are you sure you aren’t going to get bored?” Waverly asked, gently teasing. “I know how concerned you get about that kind of thing.”
“Ha ha,” Nicole said sarcastically. She raised her hand out of the water, the foam clinging to it like a second skin, and tapped a dollop of scented bubbles onto the end of Waverly’s nose. “No, I’m not bored.”
They stayed there as the water cooled from “not quite boiling” to “extremely warm,” Waverly reading and occasionally narrating the best passages out loud for Nicole. For her part, Nicole spent most of her time distracting her by tracing patterns over her skin under the water. Still, it wasn’t like Waverly was about to complain about that.
Eventually, both wine glasses were empty, and Waverly had lost her ability to read, mostly due to Nicole’s fingers and the slow, deliberate journey they were making, first up and down her sides and along her waist, then up over her hips, tickling the increasingly sensitive skin.
She initially thought that Nicole was innocently oblivious to the inner turmoil she was causing. But then her nails dragged slowly up from halfway up Waverly’s thighs, scraping gently all the way, making Waverly’s breath come in a sudden, shuddering gasp, and she felt a low chuckle against her back. Waverly groaned.
“You jerk, you’re doing that on purpose.”
The chuckle grew into a laugh.
“Maybe…” Nicole dragged the word out deliberately.
“If you make me drop this book, you’re buying me a new one,” she warned. Heedless of her warning, Nicole’s hands continued sliding up her stomach, towards her chest, making her back arch in reflex. “And it’s out of print and really hard to find.”
“Worth it,” Nicole said, as her hands cupped the swell of Waverly’s breasts.
Waverly chucked the book across the room, away from the water, barely taking time to aim. It bounced off a hanging towel and dropped to the ground in a flutter of pages. Later, she would go make sure the short flight hadn’t damaged it. But for now, her hands freed, they reached back, trying to get a grip on her girlfriend. Unable to find a good handhold reaching blindly behind her, she rolled over in the water to face her grinning love, and promptly set herself to kissing the smug grin off her face.
“Ready to go to bed?” Nicole asked in a breathless moment of separation. Waverly, panting, nodded. She enjoyed the buoyancy and heat of the water, but the tub was crowded and hard to maneuver in, and there was a whole bed’s worth of space in the other room.
They stumbled to the bed, leaving wet footprints on the wooden floor.
Nicole seemed more eager than usual as they tumbled onto the bed. Her hands and lips were both quicker, both more forward than her typical pace, and she leaned into Waverly with her whole body, rocking them both into the mattress. Nicole was always responsive— good communication was, in fact, one of her finest sexual skills— but tonight, every touch seemed to draw a shiver or moan out of her. And when she came apart under Waverly’s lips, her cry of release was loud enough that Waverly was thankful they weren’t at the homestead, or else Wynonna would have never given them a moment’s peace for the rest of their lives.
As they lay in the bed afterwards, their legs tangled, their breathing heavy, Waverly studied Nicole. Her whole body was slack, her eyes unfocused and a little dreamy. One arm was still draped over Waverly’s back, her fingers splayed almost possessively. And most importantly, she was definitely, definitely not thinking about work.
Some other time, Waverly would ask her about what had gone wrong today, why the day had left her in such a bad mood, what had gotten under her skin. Tomorrow, maybe, or over the weekend. Not tonight. Not now.
Nicole laughed suddenly.
“What?” Waverly asked, smiling.
“I took a shower and a bath, and now I’m covered in sweat again.” She dissolved back into laughter, and Waverly joined in.
“Well, maybe next time we can think of a less sweaty way to blow off steam than hiking.”
“See, I knew you didn’t like the hiking.”
Waverly rolled her eyes, unable to believe that they were still talking about it.
“I liked it fine. You’re the one who just wanted to be less sweaty.” She shifted closer. “Seriously, Nicole, why do you keep saying things like that?”
“I just don’t want you to feel pressured—“ Nicole said, before Waverly cut her off.
“I don’t. Ever. Not with you. I swear. Why are you so worried about that?”
Nicole blurted out the answer in a rush, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, like she hoped if she said it fast enough she could escape the fallout.
“Because Wynonna told me that you skipped your valedictorian speech to watch Champ play video games, and I just don’t want anything like that to happen again. I don’t want you to miss something you wanna do because you think it’ll make me happy.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Wynonna!” Waverly growled, punching the nearest pillow, suddenly wishing her sister were in the room so she could strangle her. (Well, assuming in that scenario, she and Nicole were a little more clothed and a little less post-coital.)
This apparently hadn’t been the reaction Nicole had expected.
“Was she lying?” Nicole asked, frowning slightly, a line of worry appearing between her eyebrows. “She might have said it around the time when you were both being possessed by that demon, but I assumed she was telling the truth.”
“She wasn’t lying, but she’s wrong about why.” Waverly sighed, the memory still stinging faintly, even after all these years. “It wasn’t like I wanted to give that speech so bad. I’d been dying for an excuse to skip it.”
“You were?” Nicole’s brow furrowed deeper in anachronistic concern for high-school-aged Waverly. “How come?”
“Because I’d really wanted Wynonna to be there for my graduation, and she’d promised she would try, but then at the last minute, she said she couldn’t. So she wouldn’t be there… my mom wouldn’t be there… Champ wouldn’t be there, obviously… and I’d spent so much time at that school just trying to make them stop hating me…” She trailed off, and Nicole reached over and rested a warm hand on her arm. “I just didn’t feel like I owed them a speech, you know? If Wynonna had been there, maybe… But when she couldn’t come, it all seemed so pointless. So Champ asked if I wanted to hang out with him instead, and honestly… I did. And I actually did like watching him play video games. It was kinda fun. I didn’t hate it, and I wasn’t just doing it for him. I missed the speech because I wanted to.”
“Oh…” Nicole trailed off.
“And I’m not saying I’ve never done anything just because I thought it would make someone else happy. I have. A lot. Definitely way too much. But things have changed.” She reached out and stroked a finger under Nicole’s chin, meeting her eyes. “Ever since we started doing all this Earp Heir stuff, and Black Badge… and after dating you… I’m not this town’s doormat anymore. I’m starting to understand what I want, and I wouldn’t put up with all that high school bull-puckey anymore. If I really didn’t want to do something, I just wouldn’t do it. So you really don’t have to ask all the time.”
“Okay…” They were both quiet for a moment afterwards— Waverly frustrated, Nicole pensive. “That makes sense. I should have just asked you about it when Wynonna told me.”
“She just shouldn’t have said anything,” Waverly harrumphed.
“Well… I promise I won’t ask as often… but I probably will still ask sometimes. Is that okay?” Nicole’s eyebrows were furrowed slightly in serious sincerity. Waverly sighed.
“Of course it’s okay. I just want you to believe me when I tell you it’s okay.”
“I will. I promise.”
Waverly half-rolled over to bring their faces closer together. Nicole’s looked serious, and a little penitent, and Waverly let out a long breath, then snuggled closer. Nicole pulled a blanket up over them, but kept stroking up and down her back under the blanket.
“Well, maybe we can still do something less sweaty next time,” Nicole said after a moment. “Maybe a fire in the backyard and stargazing. How does that sound?”
“It sounds perfect.”
“Good.”
And this time, it wasn’t followed by “Are you sure?” or “We can do something else if you’d rather,” or “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” No, this time, it was just… good.
Waverly rested her head against her shoulder, and could feel her heartbeat against her cheek. It felt steady. And it gave her a feeling a little like walking through her own front door after a long day. Like she was finally home. Safe. Somewhere she was wanted. Somewhere she belonged.
“And Nicole?” Waverly prompted, giving in to the urge to say at least one more thing, to give voice to the growing feeling in her chest. Nicole, her eyes half-closed, gave a sleepy hum of response. “I… I’ll walk with you anytime.”
Waverly had never quite had the smooth way with words that Nicole sometimes did. It wasn’t quite as long as you want me, I will be by your side, but she hoped that deep down, Nicole knew that she meant the same thing. That all their little favors, their comfortable silences, their kisses in bed, the extra blankets on Nicole’s couch and almond milk in her fridge, the fancy coffee and homemade sandwiches Waverly would sneak to her during a long shift, all of them were code for the same thing, even if she wasn’t always able to say it in as many words. She prayed that underneath it all, Nicole could hear it for what it was—
I love you too.