Work Text:
Nicole sat at her desk, eyes skimming over reports she’d been attempting to read for the last twenty minutes. Every time she started to focus, something would remind her of earlier in the day.
A glimpse of red from the flag hanging on the wall and Nicole was back in Waverly’s bedroom, Waverly straddling Nicole’s lap and slowly pulling a velvety red sleeve off her shoulder. The sexiest Mrs. Clause Nicole had ever seen.
A flash of white from the snow outside and Nicole’s lips were on Waverly’s porcelain neck, gently biting the soft skin at the base of her throat.
A pink handbag placed on the counter and Waverly’s cheeks, flushed with excitement and anticipation flashed across Nicole’s mind, making her whole body hot with desire to be anywhere but stuck at the station on Christmas Eve.
She should be home, in bed with her girlfriend. A girlfriend who had worn the hottest Christmas outfit Nicole had ever seen. An outfit that had made its way slowly to the floor as Waverly performed a strip tease to Nicole’s favorite Christmas song. Nicole would never be able to listen to “Let’s Stay Inside” ever again without getting all hot and bothered. They’d been a step away from the best Christmas gift Nicole had gotten in a long time. She knew, deep in her soul, that the sex they were about to have would have been transcendent. Mind blowing. Indescribable.
And then hurricane Wynonna had barged in ruining the last few hours that Nicole had had to spend with Waverly before spending the next twelve hours sitting at the desk she currently occupied.
Some days she really really hated Wynonna Earp.
Nicole sighed and closed the manilla file. Paperwork was not going to get done tonight. She leaned back in her chair and glanced at the clock.
11:30 pm.
Only thirty minutes left of Christmas Eve.
Nicole loved almost everything about her job, and, up until this year, she hadn’t minded working on Christmas Eve. Hell, she even volunteered most of the time. But not this year. This year she wanted to be curled up on the couch, watching Christmas movies and drinking irish-cocoa - Wynonna’s idea, not hers - and falling asleep next to the love of her life.
Not manning the drunk tank.
She sighed and leaned her head back. Eyes closed, she let herself drift back to this morning. The early morning winter sun lighting Waverley's bedroom like a golden hour stage. A lacy red bra slipping off of Waverly’s fingertips as she spun slowly to the music with her hands above her head. Waverley’s eyes meeting Nicole’s as she sung softly along to the sultry song, her fingertips running up and down Nicole’s bare thigh.
Ring! Ring!
Nicole jolted forward, her hand knocking over her cold cup of coffee in her sudden crash back to reality, her cheeks pink and hot.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she hissed, snatching the manilla folder off the desk with one hand, shaking off the coffee and grabbing the phone off of the receiver with the other. She took a deep breath before she answered with the standard, “Purgatory Sheriff’s Department, Officer Haught speaking, how may I assist you this evening?”
“Hello Officer Haught, it’s Darla over at Shorty’s. I’ve got a rowdy customer I think I need your help with.”
Nicole shook her head, moved the receiver away from her mouth and sighed. Darla was kind and a decent bartender, but she couldn’t handle the shenanigans at Shorty’s. Not like Waverly. This was Nicole’s tenth call in a month from across the street. The most she’d ever had in the year that she’d been in Purgatory. Doc really needed to hire a bartender who could handle Purgatory’s finest. But, it was her job. Darla was doing the right thing calling it in.
“I’ll be right over, Darla.”
“Thank you, Officer Haught. I’ll see you soon.”
Nicole hung up the phone and grabbed her jacket and her Stetson from the coat rack. Who was it tonight? One-Eyed Steve, Toothless Jack or one of the York boys? Her money was on Toothless Jack. He’d been feisty the past couple of days.
**********
Nicole glanced around the bar, noticing the string of regulars mixed with some first-timers being rowdy by the pool table, another group singing loudly at the bar, while the rest of the crowd milled about and danced to the music. She couldn’t help but feel sad for them. Who spent their Christmas Eve in a bar? Didn’t they have families to go home too?
Nicole shook away the thought and crossed to the closest part of the bar where Darla stood, her arms hugging herself and her eyes watery and red like she was about to cry.
“Hey, it’s alright. I’m here. What’s the problem? Toothless Jack got you riled up again?”
Darla shook her head and wiped a stray tear from her cheek.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Darla’s lip quivered and she hugged herself tighter, “He wanted to go upstairs to my apartment. He kept saying he wanted to fix it up and get her back. I told him no and he smashed a chair against the wall and threatened to shoot the jukebox. I got scared and ran into the office. I locked the door and called you.”
Nicole reached out and laid a hand on the girl’s arm, willing all the calm she felt to transfer to Darla. The poor girl was not cut out of this line of work, especially at this bar. Broken chairs and jukebox threats were par for the course for Shorty’s. Hell, Wynonna alone had shot the juke box at least five times. She’d still do it if Doc hadn’t threatened to ban her for life if she did it again.
“Can you point out who did it?” Nicole asked, glancing around the crowded bar.
Darla turned and motioned towards the basement door. “The man in the black shirt.”
The man in question, his back turned in their direction, slammed his empty beer bottle on the ground, glass shattering everywhere, and took a swing at the man at one of the York brothers.
Nicole should’ve known they were involved somehow.
She left Darla and rushed across the bar toward the erupting fight.
“Hey! Break it up!” She called over the noise, pushing patrons out of the way.
The man in black whirled around to face her.
“Well if it isn’t the ginger bitch cop,” The man sneered, snatching a beer from the other York brother and taking a long drink.
Champ fucking Hardy and his stupid tuxedo shirt.
Could her day get any worse?
“Put the bottle down and come with me,” Nicole ordered, her hand instinctively resting on her service weapon.
“I don’t think I will,” Champ said, his cheeks pinkening with anger and drink. “Waverley misses me. She misses everything about me. You don’t stand a chance at keeping her. You’ll see. She’ll come running back to me. You don’t know how much she loved this-" he grabbed his crotch and took another drink of his stolen beer “-you can’t do what I do. What she begged me to do.”
Nicole clenched her jaw and took another step toward him.
Calm. Cool. Collected. Champ Hardy was not worth losing her job over.
“Waverly isn’t the issue here, Champ,” Nicole said, voice low and cold, “The issue is you are causing a nuisance. Come with me and we don’t have to make this any worse than it already is, got it?”
“Fuck you,” Champ spat, “Coming in here thinking you can tell me what to do. Champ Hardy doesn’t take orders from a girlfriend stealing dyke with a badge.”
Nicole stopped and her grip tightening on the handle of her weapon. The rest of Champ’s rowdy crew had stilled, zeroed in on the interaction between the Purgatory Deputy and the town golden boy.
“You’re walking on thin ice, buddy,” Nicole managed through gritted teeth, “I never stole Waverly. She’s her own person who chose to dump your ass. I’m the better option and everyone knows it.”
Champ’s face flushed crimson and he lunged in her direction. Nicole sidestepped easily out of his way, catching his sloppily slung fist in her hand and wrenching it behind his back. She slammed him against the wall, pressing his body flush against the wall with her own as she cuffed the wrist in her hand before grabbing his other and roughly pulling it down to meet the other.
She paused, reveling in having Champ Hardy in such a vulnerable position. The petty part of her brain, that reared its ugly head in the worst possible moments, whispered in his ear, fueled by adrenaline and anger, “Waverly is never going back to a nine second man-child. She’s way too happy screaming my name every. Single. Night.”
Champ lurched back against her, but Nicole shoved him back into the wall.
She took a small step back and announced to the bar, “Champ Hardy, you are under arrest for attempting to assault an officer. Let’s go.”
Nicole grabbed onto his arm and shoved him in the direction of the door.
“Give me a call if you need any more help,” Nicole said, tipping her hat to Darla as they passed the bartender.
*************
“This is bullshit!” Champ yelled, slamming his hands against the bars of the holding cell.
“It’s actually pretty standard procedure when you take a swing at an officer,” Nicole shot back from the doorway, barely containing a smirk.
“I want my phone call,” Champ demanded, staring her down. The redness of his cheeks from earlier having calmed down back to a flushed pink.
“Fine, who do you want me to call?” Nicole asked, with a big sigh. She couldn’t deny the man his rights, as much as she wanted to.
Champ smirked and Nicole felt a knot in her stomach tighten. What was he up to?
“I want Waverly.”
Nicole crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. Was he serious? It was past midnight. Waverly was in bed, bundled under a pile of blankets, waiting for Christmas morning. Nicole couldn’t call her at this time of night. She couldn’t ruin Waverly’s peaceful Christmas Eve - Christmas morning now, Nicole corrected herself.
“I have rights, Officer. Call Waverly, or I’ll…I’ll…I’ll tell Nedley,” Champ declared, triumphantly. “She’ll come get me. She always does.”
Hot anger ripped through Nicole. How dare he think that Waverly is his own personal taxi-cab to save him from his own bullshit.
“Tick. Tock.”
Nicole pushed off from the doorway and went back to the main section of the precinct. She had to do it. He was right. He got one phone call. She had to call Waverly. There was no way in hell she was letting Champ talk to Waverly on the phone. Nicole picked up the phone on her desk and dialed Waverly’s number. The phone rang. And rang. And rang.
Nicole started to sigh in relief when Waverly picked up, “Nicole? Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
Guilt gnawed into Nicole’s bones. Of course Waverly would think Nicole was hurt. Why else would the deputy be calling her in the middle of the night?
And why didn’t Waverly sound like she’d been sleeping?
“Hey, no I’m fine. Were you still up?”
“Yeah, crazy right? Wynonna and Doc kept fighting over what movie we were going to watch for so long. We just finished. Remind me to never let Doc pick a movie ever again.”
“Good to know. You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow. I’m calling because I currently have Champ Hardy in my holding cell.”
“Happy Christmas Eve to you,” Waverly said, interrupting with an apologetic laugh.
“Tell me about it,” Nicole said, smiling down at her desk before forcing herself into deputy mode, “However, you are his one phone call. He wants you to come get him.”
The silence on the other end of the phone stretched too long for Nicole’s liking. Was Waverly considering it?
“Is Champ the only one you have?” Waverly finally asked.
Nicole’s eyebrows scrunched as she glanced towards the holding cell. What was Waverly getting at?
“Yeah? I don’t think the others will be a problem either. They…uhm…they saw everything that happened with Champ. I don’t think they’ll test me tonight.”
“Everything with Champ?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Nicole sighed, leaning back into her chair and running her hand down her face, replaying her interaction with Champ over again in her head. God how stupid had she been to say those things to him. What if he told Waverly? How could Waverly not get mad? Nicole had acted like a jealous dick and used Waverly and her sex life to do it.
A groan escaped. Nicole clamped her hand over her mouth, praying that Waverly hadn’t heard it.
Another long silence.
“I’ve got to go. Gotta tell Champ I called, bye!” Nicole said, quickly hanging up the phone before Waverly could ask anymore questions.
Cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, Nicole popped her head into the holding room.
“I called Waverly, I don’t think she’s coming.”
Champ glared at her and scoffed, “She’ll be here. Just wait. You’ll see. She isn’t over me. She isn’t over us.”
Nicole rolled her eyes and walked back to her desk, refusing to spend any more of her night in a dick swinging contest with Champ Hardy. It wasn’t like he would win anyway.
*********
“Nicole Haught, sleeping on the job.”
Nicole’s eyes shot open.
“I wasn’t! I was resting my eyes!” Nicole exclaimed. She paused, taking a moment to get her bearings.
Waverly Earp sat on the edge of her desk, a travel mug in either hand.
Why was she here? Was Champ right? Would Waverly always come for him? Nicole’s chest tightened at the thought.
“What are you doing here?” Nicole whispered, desperately trying to keep the fear and hurt out of her voice.
“You sounded upset on the phone, silly,” Waverly said, holding out a mug to Nicole, “I was still up and thought I’d give you more company than just Champ. I know how terrible he can be.”
Nicole smiled and took the offered mug. She took a sip. The sharp bite of chocolatey whiskey burned her throat. She coughed, eyes watering.
“That’s not hot chocolate!”
Waverly grinned, “It does have some hot chocolate in it. Wynonna’s idea. She thought this would cheer you up, and you’re all alone, so why not.”
Nicole huffed a laugh, “Thanks baby, but I think I’ll skip drinking at work.”
Nicole pushed the mug out of the way. Waverly caught Nicole’s hand and placed it on her trench coat covered thigh, “What’s wrong?”
Nicole’s eyes wandered Waverly’s face. Her cheeks, blush colored from the cold, eyes narrowed in concern. Nicole’s gaze dropped to the thin blush colored coat. A coat Nicole hadn’t seen before. How did she not know Waverly owned a trench coat? Why did Waverly own a trench coat? Nicole thought she knew all of the contents of Waverly’s wardrobe.
“What are you wearing?” Nicole asked, avoiding Waverly’s question, “It’s freezing outside.”
Waverly’s cheek flushed a full pink. She turned, her long wavy brown hair covering her face from Nicole’s view.
Was she…embarrassed?
Before Nicole could ask any follow up questions, Waverly jumped up from the edge of Nicole’s desk and grabbed the officer’s hand.
“Come with me,” Waverly ordered, leading the deputy through the station to an almost empty supply closet right next door to the holding cell.
“What are we doing?” Nicole asked, smiling down at Waverly.
Waverly pulled the string on the soft glowing overhead light.
“I told you, you sounded upset on the phone, and I wanted to make you feel better,” Waverly said, her hands finding their way to the back of Nicole’s neck as she stood on her tippy toes to kiss the red-head.
Nicole kissed her back, wanting so bad to lose herself in her girlfriend’s kisses, but guilt crawled its way back into Nicole’s chest. She broke away, breathless.
Waverly looked up at her, confusion clouding her perfect face.
More guilt wracked Nicole.
“I did something stupid,” Nicole said quietly, head hanging in shame.
Waverly took a step closer, ducking slightly so she could meet Nicole’s downturned gaze, “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
Nicole took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her face scrunching in shame and anticipation of Waverly’s anger, “I kind of used our sex life to piss off Champ. He was drunk and saying all kinds of stuff. I shouldn’t have let it bother me, but it did! And I said some things back when I arrested him.”
Waverly slowly ran her hands up and down Nicole’s arms, trying not to smile.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Nicole pleaded, covering her face in her hands.
“He probably deserved whatever you said,” Waverly paused and took a step closer to Nicole, “What did you say?”
Nicole turned away, cheeks hot and splotchy red.
“Nicole,” Waverly laughed quietly, “It can’t be that bad. Please, baby, tell me.”
Waverly gently grabbed Nicole’s arm and turned her back around.
Nicole met her gaze and felt herself flush even more. She could do it.
“Waverly is never going back to a nine second man-child,” Nicole said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “She’s way too happy screaming my name every. Single. Night.”
Waverly’s cheeks immediately flushed bright pink and her eyes darkened as she hungrily raked her eyes over Nicole.
She untied the knot on the trench-coat and let it fall. Nicole swallowed hard and took a step towards Waverly. Waverly who stood in the precinct supply closet wearing nothing but a silky red ribbon and bow tied around her waist.
Waverly pressed her body up against Nicole’s and laced her arms around the back of Nicole’s neck, "Well then," she said, pausing to raise herself to whisper in the officer’s ear, "make me scream.”
Nicole’s lips crashed into Waverly’s, desperate to touch every part of her body. To make her girlfriend’s Christmas wish come true.