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Waverly stood hunched over her research, sorting through files and putting them back in order. She had a simple coding system, really, nothing even remotely as complex as the Dewey Decimal used in the library but yet still, somehow Wynonna never seemed to be able to return the files to their proper location, leaving Waverly to sort and re-sort them every few days. The sister in question was sitting in the chair next to Waverly with her feet propped lazily on the desk as she nursed her third Irish coffee for the morning and pretended to read the case file in her hand.
“Y’ know, would it kill you to put things back into place after you use them?” Waverly asked disgruntedly.
Wynonna responded with a noncommittal grunt and continued to stare blankly at the pages in front of her.
“What’s sex like with officer hotstuff?” she blurted out suddenly.
“Wynonna!” Waverly reprimanded with a stern look. Since she had come out to Wynonna earlier that week her sister kept pestering her with ill-timed inappropriate questions that left Waverly a little more than embarrassed every time.
“Haven’t you had sex with her yet? I thought you guys were solid like more than a week now!?” her sister asked as though it was the weirdest thing ever.
“Wynonna!” Waverly scolded again.
“What? you asked me about Doc!” her sister scoffed.
“Yeh. Different questions, Wynonna,” Waverly responded, rolling her eyes.
“Yeh, cuz you already knew the answer to this question, duh.” Wynonna quipped. She was silent for a few beats before she perked up again.
“Oh my god!” she shouted, slamming the file down for effect, startling Waverly and gaining a glare from the shorter woman that dared her to go forward with whatever epiphany had just struck her.
“Are you in love with her?!” Wynonna asked, eyes popping out of her head. Waverly averted her eyes this time, looking down to the papers scattered on the desk and shuffling them more than necessary. Wynonna whacked her on her hip with the now rolled-up file in her hand.
“Oh my god you so are!” she affirmed, her eyes softening as she regarded her little sister’s sudden nervousness.
“Wave, does she know?” She asked, this time her voice laced with concern. Waverly glanced at her shyly out of the corner of her eyes before responding, her voice barely a whisper, “I’m pretty sure she does.”
Wynonna studied her for a moment before voicing the question Waverly already knew was coming next. “Does she feel the same way?” she asked, maintaining eye contact, trying to convey reassurance and support to her sister. The moment stretched out between them before the voice of the woman in question startled them both from the doorway, “she does.”