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A weary sigh escaped the mouth of the latest member of Purgatory's Police Department as she shut off the cruiser's engine. The lights emanating from the interior of Shorty's Saloon spilled onto the street as she brushed her uniform shirt off, donned her hat, and exited the vehicle.
Please, God…let it not be as bad as it sounded.
Things had been blessedly quiet at the station and Nicole had been considering tryng to convince Nedley to let her clock out early when the call came in. The woman on the other end sounded extremely rattled, and Nicole had only been able to pick out a few choice words – among them, 'Champ', 'rampage', and 'Earp'. Nedley had cautioned her in her second week about the middle of three sisters who had that name and lived just outside of town…a woman who had a reputation as being constantly "whiskey-soaked and reckless", as he put it.
"She's really that bad?" Nicole inquired.
"Well…under normal circumstances, no, she isn't," Nedley responded. "Wynonna's a good person who has just had a lot of shit handed to her, and her method of dealing with it when things get especially bad is usually to drink Shorty's dry."
Inwardly, Nicole winced. "Wow, that's…wow."
Nedley just nodded in response. "Yeah. I've tried to look after her as much as I can – her dad used to be sheriff, so I've known her and her sisters since they were pups – but….well, child psychology ain't exactly my forte." The man sighed. "Look, just…if you ever get a call about an Earp tearing Shorty's up, try to go in soft, alright?"
Nicole had nodded then, but now, faced with that very situation, she found herself wishing she had maybe asked some follow-up questions – how strong Wynonna was, how much liquor she could hold, how many tanks it would take to slow her down, and so on. She sighed again and walked up to the saloon doors, pushing them open.
A scream of pure jilted womanly anger sounded to her right and she looked up just in time to avoid the thrown beer stein. Before her, she saw a blonde man who looked to be in his twelfth year of high school chasing after a tiny brunette that was storming towards the entrance. "Excuse me " she said brusquely, and Nicole just had time to notice the woman's death grip on an expensive-looking bottle of Schnapps before she shoved past Nicole and went outside.
"Waves, come on, don't be like that," said the blonde, who Nicole vaguely remembered was called Hardy Champ…or Champ Hardy…or James Hardy…honestly, no one seemed quite sure. Nicole held up her hand and stopped the man from following his angry drunk of a…girlfriend, maybe? That seemed the likliest scenario. "Is there a problem, sir?"
The man looked down and then at Nicole, his mind slowly registering her uniform. "No, no problem. Me and my girl–"
"Your girl?"
"Yeah, Waverly Earp. She got a little upset about me spending last weekend with someone else, and when I tried talking with her about it she just ran off before I could explain."
Nicole's mind dinged at the mention of the name Earp, but before she could ask anything more, a loud beeping sounded from outside as someone's car alarm activated. Frowning, Nicole went outside to investigate, mildly surprised to see Champ following her. When she arrived, she was surprised to see the angry brunette engaged in a kickboxing match with an old corvette that was screeching loudly. Beside her, Champ practically screamed, "My car!" He ran forward to try to get between his probably-ex-girlfriend and the apparent love of his life. "Waverly, what the hell!"
"You!" said the brunette, rounding on the young man. "You're the hell!" The tiny woman began attacking Champ, and Nicole only-slightly-regretfully stepped between the two. She caught the woman's hand on its way down and Nicole looked down and found herself captured by the woman's eyes – not quite green, not quite hazel, but some kind of beautiful combination of the two. The woman – Waverly – stared back at her and smiled crookedly. "You are soooo pretty and I like you so much," she said with a drunken grin, just before throwing up whatever she'd been drinking over Nicole's shirt and passing out into her arms and whatever was on Nicole.
Nicole just sighed. Perfect.
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Something was wrong with Waverly's bed. For one thing, it was a lot stiffer than normal. For another, it was a lot smaller. For a third, the light above her head was buzzing irritably, which was doubly odd since her bedroom didn't even have a ceiling lamp. She sat up and the world swam insanely fast around her, and for a moment she worried she might throw up…or throw up again, judging by the taste in her mouth. She moaned as that realization unlocked some but not all of the memories of the rest of the evening.
Once her vision stopped moving, she looked around her and saw that she was in a small eight-by-eight room with bars at the entrance. Beyond the bars, the pristine halls of the sheriff's department were visible, and Waverly could just hear someone typing away at something – probably an arrest report for her, and the thought of that caused Waverly's stomach to lurch again, resulting in a very unladylike belch. She cleared her throat and softly called out, "Hello?"
The typing stopped and the soft clip-clop of uniform shoes echoed across the epoxy floor. A figure strode into Waverly's view, a tall woman with red hair down to her shoulders. Although the pants and shoes were police-issue, the red flannel and underlying dark blue tank top were decidedly not. The woman (policewoman, God! Waverly reminded herself) leaned against the counter and said in an annoyingly chipper voice, "I didn't know Shorty's was having a drinking contest tonight."
Waverly laughed bitterly. "Yeah, it was a…crazy night."
The officer stopped leaning and approached the cell (drunk tank, her mind supplied helpfully). "You want to tell me about it?"
Waverly rolled her eyes. "Why am I here?"
The officer sighed. "Let's start over, okay? I'm Nicole – Nicole Haught. And you…" The woman reached across the counter and pulled a sheet of paper from the other side. "...are Waverly Earp. Quite a popular girl around here, apparently." The officer looked around her and grimaced. "Well….not here, but…you know, Purgatory."
Waverly slowly stood and leaned against the bars, gripping one in each hand. "Why…am I…here?"
A weary sadness seemed to enter Officer Haught's eyes. "How much do you remember?"
"I…" Images flashed through Waverly's mind – Champ's phone going off, a text message from Steph, her throwing the phone out the window…and not much after that.
Officer Haught – Nicole – just nodded, a sympathetic look on her face. "So according to the bartender, you entered the bar at about seven this evening and spent the next hour and change consuming anything you could."
Waverly looked up. "Rosi said that?"
Nicole paused. "What was her name?"
Waverly knew what Nicole was doing, and she obliged. "Rosita Bustillos, the other bartender at Shorty's, girlfriend of it's current owner John Holliday, bisexual queen, and one of my better friends."
"Okay, good memory then," said Nicole with a faint smile. "You remember anything else?"
Waverly thought, then shook her head. "Just little bits."
Nicole nodded. "Basically, Miss Bustillos said you'd been drinking heavily for the past hour or so, and then when Mr. Hardy came in asking about his phone, you started screaming at him. I suppose I arrived not too long after that, which was just in time for you to practice your MMA skills on Mr. Hardy's car, vomit on my shirt, and pass out in my arms."
"On your…" Suddenly the image and taste she had noticed upon waking made a lot more sense. "Was it bad?"
Instead of answering, Nicole gestured towards Waverly. She looked down at herself and saw that instead of the white halter she'd been wearing earlier, she was wearing a too-big sweatshirt that proudly declared her a fan of the Purgatory Blue Devils high school football team. As Waverly tugged at the shirt, Nicole spoke. "Our clothes are currently keeping each other company in the washing machine in back. Once they're dry, I'll bring them up and you can change."
"Change?"
"Sure, you can–" Nicole's voice cut out as the full force of the situation revealed itself. "Oh, well…I can just store them and you can change before you go."
"And when's that?"
Nicole bit her lip, and Waverly tried not to focus on how adorable it was. "Look…legally, if a person is arrested for public intoxication, they can be held for up to 24 hours, or until they show that they are completely sober again. You seen to be okay now, but still…I'd say tomorrow morning, about eight o'clock."
Waverly said nothing as she considered this. "Okay…and what time is it now?"
"Going for eleven."
Waverly's eyebrows shot up. "Did you say eleven? As in p.m.?"
Nicole nodded again. "You were out for a couple hours. I tried calling your sisters' house, but no one answered there."
"Yeah, Wynonna's currently on a job with her boyfriend/partner Xavier. Not sure when she'll be back home."
"Oh." The officer fell silent at the news of Waverly's loneliness. "Is there…do you have anyone else you could call? I can–"
"Actually, Officer, I think I'd rather focus on just getting some sleep, if it's all the same to you." Waverly turned and walked the two-point-five steps back to where the bed was. She felt more than saw the officer staring at her for a moment, but when she turned to look again, Nicole had gone back to her desk and resumed her typing, leaving Waverly with nothing to do but wait.
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One hour later, Nicole frowned as she took her and Waverly's shirts out of the dryer downstairs. Both shirts seemed to be in acceptable enough condition, the vomit stains having faded to obscurity. There was no lingering odor, and Nicole felt that the shirt would be in more than sufficient condition for Waverly's eventual trip home, which was all well and good, but…that was still hours away.
Shaking her head, Nicole threw her uniform shirt on a hanger and stored it in her locker; with everyone else gone and her only company being Waverly, there didn't seem to be much need to have it on. The other shirt she folded carefully and tucked under her arm before heading back upstairs, pausing only to duck into the kitchen to grab something. She drummed her fingers on the countertop, considering, then opened the fridge and pulled out an assortment of things. Five minutes later, she was on her way once again.
Upstairs, Waverly was dozing fitfully on the bunk in the drunk tank. Her arms were wrapped up around her chest, and Nicole could hear sleep mutterings interrupted by the occasional sound of teeth chattering. Nicole looked around the empty station and then back at the small figure curled up inside the cell and came to a decision. She walked over to her desk, grabbed her keys, and went back to the cell, unlocking the door and going inside. She knelt next to the bunk and gently shook the woman before her. "Waverly," she said softly. "Hey, Waverly."
The smaller woman's eyes fluttered briefly and then opened, giving Nicole another glimpse of the hazel-green pools within. She yawned and sat up. "Officer Haught," she said, her voice still thick with sleep. "Is there a problem?"
Despite their positions, Nicole felt herself struggling not to blush. "No, no problem," she said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "It's just…well…"
"Just what?"
Nicole bit her lip and sighed. "You looked cold, and I wondered if you might want an extra blanket or something. Also, I made sandwiches, and your shirt is done being cleaned, and…yeah, that's it."
Waverly stared at her in silence for a moment, and Nicole worried that she'd overstepped somehow. A soft giggle started to come from the bunk. "Wait….so you did my laundry, made me dinner, and are now checking on my accommodations?" The woman stared at Nicole, a wry smile appearing on her face. "Are you sure this isn't the Purgatory Suites?"
"Okay, okay." Nicole felt a small smile appear on her own face. She stepped back to the counter and got the two sandwiches. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, and there wasn't much in the fridge, but we have a classically folded ham and cheese and a meticulously prepared vegetarian surprise, each ready for your dining pleasure, madam."
Another small laugh escaped Waverly's mouth as she smiled. "What, no wine list?"
"Sadly, our wine stocks have been pilfered by a local miscreant. We do, however, have cups of the finest water Purgatory's taps can provide and coffee brewed from locally-brought beans sourced at a nearby Buy-Low Foods."
Waverly laughed the hardest yet and leaned forward. "I believe I shall partake of the vegetarian surprise." Nicole extended the appropriate plate and Waverly took it. "And the water?"
"One second." Nicole set her plate down and left the cell. In the kitchenette, she filled two coffee cups with cool water and returned to find Waverly examining her sandwich. "You used sourdough bread."
"Yeah, it was all we had, apart from some day-old bagels. If you'd rather–"
"No, no! Not at all! I mean…" Waverly exhaled and looked up at Nicole. "I'm vegan, so picking the right bread can be tricky for some people when I visit. Sourdough is one of the few popular flavors that other people will have that I'm allowed to eat."
"Well, in that case, I'll make sure to stock up for the next time this happens."
"The next time what happens?" Waverly said pointedly.
Nicole paused, her sandwich halfway to her mouth. "Um…the next time you want a sandwich here?"
Waverly folded her arms, her sandwich forgotten. "And why would I be having more sandwiches here?"
"I…" An alarm bell started ringing in Nicole's head as she worked to come up with an inoffensive answer. "Just….in case?"
Waverly continued to stare at Nicole, then let her gaze fall and picked up her sandwich. "Well…I'd need a pretty good reason to come by. Apart from the cuisine, I mean."
"Really?" Nicole's interest was piqued. "What kind of reason?"
"Oh, you know…" Waverly took another bite. "If, say, there was a friend of mine who worked here. Someone I really liked that was nice and kind and willing to listen when she has absolutely no real reason to. I could see myself coming here quite a bit in that case."
Nicole nodded and bit into her own sandwich. "Yeah," she agreed. "That would be pretty amazing, if you knew someone like that."
"Extremely amazing. Shame no one like that works here."
"Well, it's a long shot, but…there is this new girl who started recently. Red hair, about 5'9", thick brown eyes. She doesn't really know many people around town, apart from her boss and her cat."
Waverly looked up. "She has a cat?"
Nicole nodded. "Tabby. Calamity Jane. Give her a month unchecked, she'll be running the whole province."
"Sounds adorably terrifying."
"She'd appreciate that description."
"And what about her owner? Is she also adorably terrifying, or just terrifyingly adorable?"
Nicole snorted. "More like adorably terrified. The only person she's had any extended conversation with is some drunk chick she met on the job."
Waverly looked back at her sandwich, a disturbed expression on her face. "Yeah…that sounds rough. She probably had a good reason for being that drunk, though."
Nicole shifted. "Anything she'd want to talk about?"
Waverly didn't answer her. Instead, she stood up and exited the cell. "Which way to the bathroom?"
"Waverly, wait, you–"
Waverly turned. "Nicole, you've been remarkably nice to me all evening, and I promise I'm not trying to pull a Wynonna on you. I swear that I will come back in, but I also swear that a trip to the toilet would be a gift from God right now." She stepped forward and took Nicole's hands. "Trust me?"
Nicole looked up at the cameras positioned throughout the room, and then back at the five-foot-three woman before her. "Okay, fine. Just….don't wander off, okay? I'll probably be in enough trouble with the sheriff just for dining in the cell with you."
"What, with Randy? He won't mind, I promise. Be right back!" Waverly skipped off down the hall, humming a tune and acting remarkably chipper for someone who should have been starting the early stages of a massive hangover. Nicole laughed to herself and headed for the supply closet. She had promised her guest a blanket, and she wanted to make good on that promise.
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Waverly shifted underneath the thick blanket Nicole had procured from some back room. The writing on it seemed to indicate that it was technically an emergency services blanket for use by trauma victims, but Nicole had handed it to her with barely any hesitation.
And it was thick. What Nicole had found was both incredibly soft and surprisingly fuzzy, but still thick enough to almost entirely stave off the cold. Waverly had solved the problem of that 'almost' by insisting that Nicole join her underneath the insulated blanket. After some appropriate comments about professionalism and them still technically being arrestor and arrestee, Waverly had simply gotten up, taken Nicole's hand, sat her on the bed, and fallen in next to her. Simple.
That was ten long minutes ago, and neither woman had said anything in that time. Waverly chanced a glance at Nicole and saw that despite her earlier protests, she now seemed quite comfortable next to Waverly in the cell, her own insane body warmth adding to the temperature underneath the blanket. The officer raised an eyebrow at her, an obvious question of Are you okay? behind it. Waverly sighed and burrowed in closer. "I met Champ in high school."
Waverly waited to see if this would bring any response, but there was just that patient I'm here look. The younger woman sighed again and plunged forward. "I was on the cheerleading squad with my best friends, and Champ was the star quarterback. Everything about him just radiated confidence and excitement back then, and when you're a sixteen year old who's skipped grades twice, that means nothing good. We started dating officially when I was seventeen and he was eighteen, and at the time I didn't think much of it – I'd already been staring at his cleat-covered bum for over a year, and to finally have him…well, it was a bit of a rush. A five-year rush, as it turns out."
Waverly paused, long enough for Nicole to notice. "So what'd he do?"
Waverly shut her eyes, remembering. "At first it was just little things. He'd mix up dates, showing up for one when I'd told him I was working. If that happened, he'd just hang out at the bar, drinking too much and getting progressively more…." She shook her head and started over. "It's not even that he was doing anything illegal, but every time I tried to be nice to someone and maybe get some extra tip money, he'd suddenly show up and act like the customers were coming on to me, daring them to stop and just being the most possessive idiot ever…which is really funny when you consider that when the bar was dead and I did have time for him, he was nowhere in sight."
The look in Nicole's eyes suggested she knew what was coming, and the hand that squeezed Waverly's said the same thing. "If it's too much to say just now…"
"No, I'm fine. Really." Waverly felt herself squeezing Nicole's hand back. As Nicole nodded in acceptance, Waverly went on. "He came by again yesterday, saying he had the whole weekend free if I wanted. I told him I was working tonight – last night, at this point – but that I was free after that. He gave me a big ol' kiss right on the mouth and said he'd pack his bags for The Big City. He ran off like a fox, but as his truck pulled away I saw he'd left his phone on my bed. I was gonna put it downstairs, but then it rang and for some dumb reason, I answered. Before I could speak, I heard…her." Waverly swallowed the anger down.
"Who?" asked Nicole.
"Stephanie fucking Jones, that's who. Before I could say 'Champ's phone, hello?', I heard her saying she was sorry things weren't working out this weekend but if he ever wants a better fuck than that Earp chick, he knows where to find her."
Nicole's face was pale, and Waverly couldn't tell if it was shock or rage. "And…what did you say to this very pleasant woman who I will definitely not be arresting within the next week?"
"Down, girl." Waverly patted her friend's shoulder. "To her, I didn't say anything. I just put the phone on my bed, walked away a few meters, and started talking as though I'd just found Champ – the whole 'Hey, baby, there you are' routine. It worked, because the phone flashed 'call ended' ten seconds later. Once she'd hung up, I unlocked his messages and sure enough, there's a whole itinerary of Steph meet-ups going back six months at least. It might have been more, but I got so angry I threw the phone out the window and into the street, where I believe it got hit or run over by a passing vehicle."
Nicole's mouth quirked. "Such a shame."
Waverly nodded. "Anyway, I think that was the point I went down into the bar and told Rosie to give me the strongest shit she had back there, and…" Waverly's eyes widened. "Oh, god, I must owe about two hundred in drinks costs." Her hands went to cover her face as she moaned in anguish.
"Actually," said Nicole, gently pulling her hands away. "You don't owe anything. Rosita said to tell you once you were awake that they'd comp the drinks you had."
"Really?" Waverly leaned forward, a dull pounding starting to echo in her skull. She winced and grabbed her head.
Nicole noticed. "Hangover starting?" When Waverly groaned again in response, Nicole gently disentangled herself from Waverly and walked over to behind the counter. When she returned, Waverly saw that she was holding out two pills and a bottle of water. "I always have a little extra strength medicine in case of headaches. This should help tamp it down enough that you can get back to sleeping it off."
"Especially given my body size, right?" Waverly joked. Nicole just smiled and held the pills and water forward. Waverly took both, popping them in one at a time and letting out a tiny burp when she was through. "Excuse me."
"Always," Nicole replied. "Will you be okay?"
Waverly nodded. "Just…stay with me another few minutes, okay? Just until I fall asleep, and then…" A big yawn interrupted Waverly's thought, eliciting a small laugh from the pair. "Just a few minutes, and then you can get back to your police work, okay?"
Nicole nodded and sat back next to Waverly, pulling her in close and wrapping the blanket around them. "Okay."
Waverly sighed, her eyelids already drooping. "Thanks, Nicole," she slurred. "You really are a good…gooding…"
If Nicole responded with words, Waverly didn't hear them. She just fell back against her human pillow and bonus blankets and into a thick and dreamless sleep.
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The wind blew softly outside their recently completed house. Waverly laughed as the small beagle ran back and forth between her and Nicole, tongue wagging in excitement as he careened through his new stomping grounds. The puppy barked excitedly, and Nicole heard herself say, "Okay, Jack. You ready to go meet up with Cousin Tube and Aunt Wynonna?" A slobber-filled kiss was answer enough as–
"Nicole."
–Waverly stepped forward with Jack's leash. She attached it to his collar and gave Nicole the sweetest smile, one that reminded Nicole of just how lucky she was that this angel of a person had found her when she had, rescuing her from homelessness and poverty and desperation and–
"Officer Haught!"
Nicole's eyes blinked the dream away as she took in her surroundings. She found herself still in the cell with Waverly, having apparently fallen asleep next to her sometime after Waverly's confession. Waverly herself was still asleep, and as Nicole's vision cleared, she saw Sheriff Nedley standing in the open doorway of the cell, a carefully neutral expression on his face as he asked, "Would you care to explain yourself?"
"Ummm…" Nicole sheepishly looked from her boss to her…Waverly…and back again, her mind simultaneously coming up with reasons that wouldn't get her fired while wondering the best price she could get for her crappy two-story single bedroom. "She was cold?"
Yup. Definitely fired.
Nedley looked between the two of them as Waverly began to stir. "Well, she does get that way. Still, at least you found my sweatshirt and some blankets to keep her warm." He nodded once and stepped outside, heading into the bullpen. "I'll be in my office if either of you need something. Enjoy your day off."
Nicole rose and reached the cell door just in time to see Nedley's office door swing shut behind him. She turned around and saw Waverly sitting up, a few stray bits of hair sticking out from her otherwise perfect head. The younger woman turned and looked at Nicole with a smile. "Hey…" she said, a touch of sleep still in her voice. "Was that Nedley?"
"Yeah. I think he just gave me the day off."
Waverly yawned and stretched. "That was nice of him. Is there any coffee?"
With her mind still trying to catch up, Nicole could only point towards the coffeemaker and say, "It might be cold."
"Well, that's what the microwave is for, isn't it?" Nicole just nodded dumbly as Waverly headed for the station's ancient coffeemaker. "So, any big plans for today?"
"Uh….no, not really. Why?"
"Well, I was thinking you could drive me back to the bar, drop me off there, and then we each shower and change at our respective homes before meeting up again later."
"Really?"
"Really."
Nicole grinned. "Yeah, that sounds great. What are you up for?"
Waverly smiled and stepped forward, her arms encircling Nicole. "Absolutely anything. Why? What did you have in mind?"
Nicole gave it some thought and then grinned. "Well…how about a drink?"
Waverly almost looked ready to throw up again. "Okay, anything but that."