Chapter Text
Cold permeated every inch of her body. The stone seemed to grasp it, to contain it, and from the stone the cold rose up to meet her.
She would not move for there was no reason to move. The throne was her birthright. She was its inhabitor as she had always been its inhabitor.
She should have felt frozen. Her hands should have turned blue and then red until the fingertips turned black. The blackness should have spread.
But she only felt warmth and emptiness and calm.
There were voices in the snow. Voice that begged. But she cared not for voices or begging. She cared not for anything.
“Waverly?”
It was a name that belonged to another thing from another place.
“Waverly, please?”
Please – such a human concept. As if the pitch of one’s voice, as if tears, as if pain could sway her. As if the hysterical absurdity of “Waverly, please” could pull her from her destiny.
She looked down, no longer seated, no longer on her throne. Instead, she was in a bedroom. The vessel’s bedroom. There was another in the bed, sleeping, her arms extended to the empty spot next to her.
“Waverly, please…”
The vessel tilted its head, a silly echo of what once was. For why waste time on something that meant nothing. Something so small, so miniscule, as pain.
There was no such thing as pain. There was no such thing.
And yet the human insisted. With tears. With body shaking sobs. With words that drowned in sorrow.
“Waverly, please…”
The thing that had once been Waverly stared down and felt nothing.
Let the creature weep. Let the creature writhe. Let the creature die.
It was of no consequence.
Not to the Guardian.
~*~
For a moment, Waverly didn’t know what she was looking at.
Beside her there was a woman, a familiar woman. And the woman was scratching at her own neck as she slept.
Waverly tilted her head and watched and wondered why she couldn’t hear anything.
It was only when the woman beside her thrashed and hit Waverly’s thigh that the sound came back. It was as if someone had switched from mute to full volume in under a second.
Nicole. It was Nicole. Of course, it was Nicole.
The emptiness in Waverly’s chest was soon replaced with too much feeling. Love and recognition and worry and exhaustion seeped in, flooding her system.
Nicole. Nicole. Concentrate on Nicole. Concentrate.
“Baby?” Waverly called out softly, trying not to startle Nicole awake.
Nicole turned her face, gasping in her sleep.
It was the drowning dream.
Stupid Rian and her stupid dunk-tank had apparently wormed their way into Nicole’s subconscious. Stupid, stupid Rian.
Waverly leaned over and grasped Nicole’s shoulder, shaking as lightly as she could.
“Nicole?”
The gasping stopped. Nicole inhaled and then exhaled and then opened her eyes, clearly confused until she saw Waverly’s worried face.
“Oh, shit, did I wake you? Sorry babe…” she mumbled, pushing herself up on one elbow.
“No, no, I had a nightmare too,” Waverly said, oddly relieved that she wasn’t alone with her bad dreams. Nicole had them too.
“We’re awesome at this sleep thing,” Nicole yawned as she spoke, and then settled back down on her pillow.
Waverly followed, resting her head on Nicole’s shoulder, pleased when Nicole’s arms found their way around her body, holding her close.
“So awesome,” Waverly said, already feeling sleepy again.
She could feel the echo of what it was not to feel at all. To look down at Nicole and recognize nothing. To look down without empathy.
And she wondered how it could be. Because cuddled in Nicole’s arms, she felt everything.
“Should we try it again?” Nicole’s voice was barely a whisper.
Waverly nodded, nuzzling her face against Nicole’s chest. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, counting Nicole’s heartbeats as she did.
Sleep seemed so close. A growing fog, spreading and spreading…
And then Annie screamed and Nicole groaned and Waverly felt relief.
Because at least she could feel at all.
~*~
Waverly’s knowledge of her wardrobe was nearly encyclopedic. She knew where each garment was kept. She knew what each garment looked like. She knew what looked good together and what didn’t.
Despite a very small closet, Waverly had amassed a large, eclectic jumble of clothing that made sense to her, but would likely make anyone else weep due to the sheer size and complexity of the collection.
As she stood in front of her clothes, she let her mind do what it always did when it came to fashion.
High waited jeans
Blue or black denim?
Blue
Black crop top, sleeveless…no
Leopard print bra
Sheer black shirt, low neckline, long sleeve
And…
Nicole walked into the room just as Waverly was pulling on a pair of knee-high black suede boots. The heel was a bit high for a casual night at Shorty’s, but Waverly never let practicality get in the way of a good outfit.
“You ready, Cutie?” Nicole asked, distractedly tucking in her shirt.
Waverly stood up and nodded.
“You look hot, Babe,” she said, crossing the room to stand next to Nicole.
“Yeah? Canadian tuxedo not too much?”
Nicole gestured to her light blue denim shirt and her dark blue denim jeans – the jeans that fit her like a second skin. The jeans that Waverly was very much planning to slide off Nicole’s long legs at some point in the evening.
“As I said, you look hot.”
Waverly undid one more button near Nicole’s collar and then set her hands on Nicole’s shoulders. The boots made them nearly the same height and it felt strange to kiss Nicole without needing to stand on her toes.
“Okay. We can do this,” Nicole said as they both simultaneously looked at themselves in the full-length mirror set in the corner of the room.
“Totally. We are two, grown, adult women,” Waverly nodded.
“We can go hang out with my colleagues at a bar. On a Thursday night.”
“A school night.”
“And we won’t talk about our baby for the whole time,” Nicole said, a determined look on her face.
“Maybe only half the time.”
“Three quarters.”
Waverly ran her hand through her hair, happy with her decision to leave it loose and wild.
“By the way,” Nicole said, her eyes meeting Waverly’s in the mirror, “you’re a smoke show, Waverly Earp.”
After months of wearing sweatpants and stained t-shirts, Waverly had to admit that dressing up a little was nice. She knew she looked good. She knew the jeans and the boots accentuated her ass. The low cut, sheer material of her shirt was already drawing Nicole’s attention.
Nicole slipped one hand into Waverly’s back pocket and squeezed.
“Let’s go for a drink or two. The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave,” Nicole said.
It surprised Waverly. She thought Nicole was excited to go out and see everyone from work.
“What’s the rush?” Waverly asked, never looking away from Nicole’s eyes in the mirror.
Nicole casually shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head in thought.
“Wynonna has Annie for the night. Rachel’s out at Billy’s until tomorrow…”
“And…what? Planning to handcuff me to the bed, Sheriff?”
“Maybe…”
“Good thing I did some grooming in the shower this morning.”
It took all of Waverly’s effort not to burst out laughing at Nicole’s sudden, needy expression. Her wife turned away from the mirror and curled both hands in the waist of Waverly’s jeans.
“Can I see?” She asked, pulling a little at the material.
Waverly gently circled her fingers around Nicole’s wrists and moved them away.
“Later. But only if you’re good,” Waverly teased as she stepped into Nicole space and draped her arms over those shoulders she so loved.
“In that case, I’ll be very good,” Nicole said against Waverly’s lips, before ducking her head down and kissing Waverly’s neck.
“I didn’t quite finish the job.”
Waverly stifled a moan at the feel of Nicole’s tongue, hot against her skin.
Nicole pulled back, red-faced, and needy as she half-begged, “You didn’t?”
Waverly shook her head while playing with the collar of Nicole’s shirt.
“I’ll have to fix that when we get home. Maybe you can watch. Or maybe you can do it for me,” Waverly whispered raising her eyebrow in challenge, curious to see what Nicole would do next.
It earned her a quiet fuck as Nicole inadvertently thrust her hips forward, hitting Waverly’s pelvis.
“Baby,” Nicole whined, pulling Waverly impossibly closer to her body.
“We have to go, Honey.”
“But, Baby, please…”
Waverly responded with a harsh kiss, open mouthed and needy. Nicole’s body felt warm beneath her fingers, and Waverly desperately wanted to give in to Nicole’s begging.
God, she was begging for it
Except they’d made a commitment and it was good for Nicole’s career that they go and mingle. A little edging never hurt anyone. Much.
Waverly pulled back and looked at Nicole, whose lips were swollen and wet.
“Later, I promise,” Waverly said, though she made no move to step away from Nicole’s embrace.
Instead, she pulled open Nicole’s shirt, only to expose her neck and shoulder. Waverly didn’t need to reach up thanks to her boots, so she tilted her head down, and sunk her teeth into the soft skin just above Nicole’s collar bone. She could feel the tough muscle as she bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to leave a mark.
When she was finished, she stepped away, out of Nicole’s arms.
Nicole who stood rooted to the spot. Nicole whose face was still red. Nicole whose shirt was askew revealing a red, soon to be purple, bruise that would remain hidden by her shirt all night.
But Waverly knew the mark was there. Waverly knew it was in the shape of her mouth. And Nicole knew it too.
Waverly thumbed the button of Nicole’s jeans and quickly unzipped the fly. She could feel Nicole trying to steady her breathing, she could feel the small tremors as Nicole’s body shook with want.
With Nicole’s jeans open at the front, Waverly pulled them down just a little, just enough to see a very cute pair of blue panties. A very cute pair of blue panties that were visibly wet in the front.
“Look what you did,” Waverly said, holding Nicole’s jeans in place, exposing her.
“Waverly…”
“You made a mess.”
Nicole could only nod, the muscle in her jaw twitched.
“I want you to wear them all night,” Waverly whispered, “I want you to feel the mess you made for me when you’re laughing with your friends.”
She licked Nicole’s lips once and then stepped back a little, pulling up Nicole’s jeans and tucking in her shirt. When Waverly was done, she cupped Nicole hard between her legs. Despite the heavy denim, she could still feel the heat.
“One hour. Then we come home,” Nicole said, quiet and out of breath.
Waverly nodded and reluctantly moved her hand away.
She wondered if they’d make it that long.
~*~
Shorty’s was as boisterous as ever, despite the fact that it was a Thursday night.
It was like stepping into an old sweatshirt, impossibly familiar and comfortable. Waverly smiled as she walked through the door, she smiled as numerous voices rose up to say hello, and she smiled when Nicole made a beeline to the bar where Nedley was busy behind the counter.
“On a school night?” He said, already pouring Nicole a pint.
“You know how it is, team building and all that,” Nicole shrugged, gratefully accepting the glass from Nedley.
“How’s that baby of yours?”
Nedley’s nonchalance when it came to Annie never quite worked. Waverly could still remember his face the first time he saw Annie. Nicole brought her to him all bundled in a blanket and Nedley accepted her with open arms and a tear in his eye.
“Oh, you have to see this, she just…” Nicole started grabbing for her phone, but then stopped, straightening up.
“We swore no baby talk,” she said.
Waverly could only nod.
“We’re trying very hard to be grownups who know how to talk about things other than diapers and explosive poops,” Waverly added, though she made a mental note to send Nedley the new pictures later.
“Roger that,” Nedley said, gruff, but kind.
It wasn’t difficult to find Rian and her team in the noise. They had commandeered one of the larger round tables in the bar and Rian was holding court, her ever-present black t-shirt rolled up to reveal more of her extensively tattooed arms. Some of Nicole’s deputies were present too and as soon as they saw Nicole, they called her over.
“Hey, Haught! Didn’t think you’d show!” Rian yelled the loudest and Waverly watched as Nicole’s demeanor changed from adorable new mom to badass sheriff of a supernaturally cursed town.
While calling Nicole “daddy” during sex seemed to illicit endless giggles from them both, watching Nicole cross the room had Waverly feeling somewhat differently about the term. Because the way Nicole walked, the set of her shoulders, her strong forearms…
Definitely a daddy.
Nicole waited for Waverly to grab a glass of wine before sitting down. They settled into well-worn chairs and Nicole immediately draped her arm around Waverly’s shoulders.
“These doofuses were just telling me that Wyatt Earp used to drink in this bar,” Rian said, shooting both Nicole and Waverly an incredulous look.
“That’s actually true,” Waverly said, mustering a smile.
Nicole looked around once, nodding her head. “Waverly has researched the whole thing. She’s found tons of artifacts.”
“So you and your sister are what? Earp heirs?” Rian reached for the shot glass in front of her and downed it before Waverly could answer.
Waverly raised an eyebrow. “You could say that.”
“Come to think of it, I never asked what you do…for a job, I mean,” Rian directed the comment towards Waverly.
“I’m an archivist, although these days I’m just Annie’s mom. At least until my mat leave is up,” Waverly said, choosing to skip the part about being an archivist for a super-secret, non-government sanctioned, supernatural hunting, military unit.
Rian raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Didn’t take you for the bookish type.”
“What type did you take me for?” Waverly tried to keep the question light and friendly, but she didn’t like the way Rian was looking at her. Or Nicole.
“Not sure, to be honest. You just seem to really like the mom thing,” Rian said with a shrug.
“Being a mother and enjoying intellectual pursuits are not mutually exclusive.”
“Waverly speaks six languages, she can read at least ten,” Nicole piped in, lowering her glass as she spoke.
Rian had the decency to at least feign interest, but Waverly didn’t care. Because Nicole’s arm was a comfort across the back of her chair and Nicole was so clearly, unashamedly proud.
The conversation settled when a waiter brought another round of shots and the table quickly filled with glasses and laughter. Rian was still a point of contention, but Nicole seemed to be enjoying herself so Waverly couldn’t help but feel happy. Nicole was most definitely going to regret all the shots later, but it was so rare that they had time for carefree fun. Let her have a few extra drinks.
When Waverly felt a tap on her shoulder moments later, she expected Nedley. Instead, it was Fred, the werewolf florist.
“Oh my God, Fred!” Waverly yelped, standing from her chair and pulling the man into a hug.
He hugged back, equally excited to see Waverly.
“Girl, your wedding got me Instagram famous!”
“Right? Wildflowers. Can’t go wrong.”
“Play a round of pool with me? I need to know everything about those boots,” Fred said and Waverly laughed and agreed.
She pressed a quick kiss to the top of Nicole’s head and then stepped away from the table, joining Fred for a game.
As she set up her first shot and chatted with Fred about seasonals, Waverly couldn’t help but listen in on Nicole too. The pool table was still close enough to hear Purgatory’s Finest at their drunken best. Plus, it let her keep an eye on Nicole who could hold her liquor better than Wynonna, but who very much needed to slow down if she had any hopes of getting laid later. Or going to work the next day.
Waverly circled the pool table once and was about to take her turn when she heard Rian’s voice loud and clear.
“Honestly, honestly…I don’t know how you do it.”
“What do you mean?”
That was Nicole.
Waverly concentrated on Fred’s move, watching as he missed.
“Monogamy. Marriage. Oh my god I could never,” Rian said and a few of the deputies at the table mumbled in agreement.
“Guess it’s not for everyone, but it works for me.”
Nicole’s words brought a soft smile to Waverly’s face. Fred asked her something about petunias. She answered as best she could.
Apparently, Rian had had one too many beers, or she was just an ass because the conversation did not die with Nicole’s answer.
“But…okay sorry, sorry, I just…banging one person for the rest of your life? Oh, hell no!”
There was some obvious snickering, but Waverly still didn’t turn around. She had a ball to sink.
“I wouldn’t want anyone but Waverly. I just really love my wife,” Nicole’s voice was slightly slurred as she spoke.
“Wait, wait, weren’t you married before?” One of Nicole’s deputies spoke up, likely earning himself a demotion. Or a pool cue to the face.
“Yeah. And it wasn’t right for me. But Waverly is right for me,” Nicole said.
“But how do you know if this is right for you, if the last time wasn’t right for you?”
Rian was really pushing her luck. She was obviously drunk, but still.
“Because I know. She’s my whole damn world. Also…guys…wanna see my baby?”
Even intoxicated, Nicole was romantic and sweet and lovable. Waverly quickly glanced over her shoulder, only to find Nicole handing around her phone so the table could see whatever it was that Annie was doing. With her hands free, Nicole pulled her hair into a ponytail and quickly tied it. Alcohol made her warm.
“The sex must be wild. That’s the only reason I can think of,” Rian laughed.
It earned her a sharp look from Nicole. A look that was apparently enough to stop Rian’s line of thought.
Waverly felt confident in that moment. She felt in control and proud and vindicated. Because what she had with Nicole was stronger than steel. It was older than the mountains. And a drunk, obnoxious asshole from the big city couldn’t begin to understand their love if she tried.
“Change of subject?” Rian asked, raising her hands.
Nicole nodded but didn’t speak.
“Do any of you know any tattoo places around here? I’m dying for some new ink.”
Rian was clearly dominating the conversation, but her companions seemed not to mind.
“Not in Purgatory. Unless you count the illegal stick and poke out of Marty’s basement,” the deputy who’d spoken about Nicole’s previous marriage seemed intent on getting himself fired
“Seriously? Don’t any of you guys have any tats?” Rian raised her arm, showing off her sleeve.
One of the men revealed an anchor on his shoulder. The woman next to him awkwardly raised her leg, showing off a butterfly on her ankle.
“What about you, Red?” Rian asked, the nickname settling like oil on water.
Just like everything with Rian, it was too familiar. Because “Red” was for Wynonna. No one else.
“Nope,” Nicole said, leaning back in her chair.
“Come on, I can see it! Show me!”
Waverly turned just in time to see Rian lift her hand. Though the movement likely took seconds, time slowed for Waverly as she watched Rian reach out and settle her fingertips on the back of Nicole’s neck. On the brand.
The pool cue rattled to the floor as Waverly tossed it down. She didn’t think. She was barely aware of moving at all as she crossed the room with her arms stretched out, barrelling into Rian with such strength that it sent them both crashing to the floor.
“What the hell??” Rian yelled, raising her hands. Waverly scrambled off her, panting in rage.
“Do not touch my wife,” she growled, before making the split-second decision to dump Nicole’s remaining beer on Rian’s head.
“Are you crazy? What’s wrong with you?”
Rian pushed herself up, dripping with beer and clearly furious.
Waverly was about to yell back when she felt a strong arm across her middle.
“Come with me. Now.” Nicole voice was low and angry in Waverly’s ear, but she fought against Nicole’s hold, wanting only to scratch that stupid look off Rian’s face.
“She touched you,” Waverly yelled, not caring that half the bar was now listening, not caring that no one knew what the mark on Nicole’s neck meant to them. How intimate it was for anyone to touch it but Waverly.
“Now.”
Nicole pulled back, adjusting her hold to take Waverly by her elbow.
“But…”
“Now.”
Nicole half-dragged and half-pushed Waverly through the crowd, bumping into tables and other patrons as she made her way to the basement door. She didn’t say a word. Not when she turned on the lights, not when she slammed the door behind them, not when she forcefully, but carefully descended the stairs with Waverly in tow.
It was only when she was standing across from Waverly in the dusty basement, kegs and empty boxes everywhere, that Nicole started to talk.
“She didn’t know, Waverly. You can’t just…just…do that to my colleagues! I have to work with her. Every day!” Nicole said, voice rising in anger.
Waverly found herself breathing heavily, her stomach burning with each exhale and inhale.
“She touched you,” Waverly said again, though she knew it was a poor excuse.
“Why does that matter? I think I’ve made my feelings very clear, Waverly, so I’d appreciate if you’d stop insinuating…or…or implying that there’s anything…”
The pain flared, licking up Waverly ribs, into her chest cavity. She bent slightly at the waist, head bowed.
“Waverly?”
A sharp, high ringing filled her ears. She closed her eyes, trying to shut it out, but it drilled at her, filling the space between her and Nicole.
“Waverly, what’s…”
“Can’t you hear that?” Waverly cried, slamming both hands over her ears.
“Hear what?”
Waverly couldn’t breathe. The sharp ringing only grew louder and the pain…
Her stomach and her back. Something in her back. Clawing…
“Waverly!”
Nicole’s anger was replaced with fear, but Waverly could not reassure her. She couldn’t do anything but drop to her knees and hold her head in her hands, screaming, screaming…
She could sense Nicole close and she tried to look, she tried to force herself to open her eyes because Nicole would keep her safe. Nicole would stop this.
Except Nicole faltered mid-crouch, her brow furrowed. She raised one hand to her neck and pulled out what appeared to be a small dart.
“What the…”
Realization hit her quickly. Her eyes widened, as she tried to stand, but it was too late. Nicole wavered, looking at Waverly with wide, scared eyes, and then she collapsed, hitting the cement floor hard.
“Nicole,” Waverly cried out, trying to get to her wife, trying to move.
There were people on the stairs, their footfalls loud, piercing in the quiet space. Waverly could barely see anymore, but she knew Nicole’s body was so close. Waverly wanted to curl into it, but she couldn’t. Not when claws were tearing through her spinal column.
A radio crackled to life somewhere and Waverly could just make out the figures walking towards her. Men from the fire house wearing bulletproof vests held rifles with tracers directed right at her. They’d been laughing and drinking with Nicole moments before and now their faces were grim.
In front of them all, holding a dart gun was Rian.
“We’ve got the asset,” Rian said, pressing a hand to her ear.
Waverly tried to stand, she tried to see. But there was too much pain and too much noise and she couldn’t tell if Nicole was breathing.
Rian raised the gun in her hand and pulled the trigger without a word. Waverly felt the tiniest sting in her thigh.
The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was a man holding a small sonar device in one hand and a black bag in the other. A man in a bulletproof vest. A bulletproof vest emblazoned with three letters.
BBD