They do it, at first - again - just like Nicole said. Opposite ends of the couch, sipping tea and talking.
Except…
Except that this time's a little different. They're at opposite ends, yes, but no one is curled up and in and away. There's legs stretched out between them (Waverly's over Nicole's cause, let's be real, Nicole works out and calves) (not that Waverly is complaining at all) and every once in a while, Waverly's hands - warm from her mug - slip under the blanket and run along Nicole's ankle or just a little ways up those calves and that shudder that she feels rippling through her girlfriend's legs and that slow way her eyes flutter shut and the way Nicole gently chews on her bottom lip, like she's trying to hold something in?
Totally from the heat.
Totally.
Nicole's skipped the tea this time too, cause, you know, she hates it. But she loves her.
And no, they haven't talked about that, not yet, but not talking doesn't mean not thinking and, really, Waverly can barely think of much else. Except for, maybe, saying it back but she's not quite ready and, honestly, she's not sure Nicole was ready (she looked almost as surprised that she said it as Waverly was to hear it) but she hasn't taken it back (like Waves would let her.)
And it isn't that Waverly doesn't feel it because she does, she has, like for a while now even if she wasn't quite sure, at first, what it was. It wasn't something she recognized, not like the desire (she knew that immediately, even if she tried to ignore it, just for a bit) cause it was nothing like what she'd felt for Champ and she'd always said that was love.
It had to be, right? What the hell else could have compelled her to stay with him as long as she did if it wasn't love?
But now… well… now Waverly knows better and she knows that whatever it was she felt for Champ, it wasn't this, it wasn't love (a very strong like, maybe, with a dash of 'not any better options') and, if she's being honest? That scares her a little.
Waverly's realizing (realized) that Nicole's not just the first woman she's ever loved.
Nicole's the first anyone. The first anyone she's loved like that, anyway, cause she does love her sister… sisters… even if neither of them has made that particularly easy and yes, she's well aware that she can't really hold all those years she was missing against Willa (much) but there's still the matter of all the years before. So, maybe, if Waverly's going just a little slow, if she's holding off just a… smidge… it makes sense, given her track record with love.
But make no mistake, she does feel it and yeah, it's great, it's wonderful, it's amazeballs (minus, you know, the balls) but, at the same time, it's terrifying and it's weird and it's different and new and, until just recently, there'd been absolutely no new in Waverly's life in like… forever… and most of the new new she's been dealing with isn't exactly… good.
You know, demons and Witches and witches and not so dead sisters and not so gone ones, too.
But Nicole is different and Waverly kinda thinks that maybe it's a tradeoff, you know? You get a demon or two (or seventy-something) and a witch and an undead gunslinger and a not dead sister and a shadowy government agency and it's repressed representative (and, shit, that's so many more 'ands' than she thought) and, in exchange?
One good sister back from the world and one great, wonderful, amazing woman who just might change everything (and already has) and yeah, that's a deal Waverly would make any day of the week, but… still… even though it's great and she's got no doubts (none) (nada) (zip, zilch, zero), she still thinks maybe she'll keep those three little words to herself for a bit.
Until, you know, she blurts it out (not that Waverly ever does that), probably in the middle of some random discussion like the one they had at the station the other day about the best kinds of hot chocolate (Nicole was pro tiny marshmallows and Waverly and Dolls were not and Wynonna didn't care as long as 'there's whiskey in it, not particular about the kind') or they're trying to talk Doc out of leaving again (Nicole threatened to have his car impounded and he said he'd get a horse and she said she'd impound that too) or, you know, someone else comes back from the dead.
Or something like that.
So, no, no (more) 'I love you's' (yet) (the day is young) and no tea for Nicole - a can of coke from the fridge instead - and more tangled legs and soft blankets and fewer secrets and no more fucking riddles about who's looking for what in where and oh, yeah, Waverly's now empty mystery bottle, clutched in Nicole's hand as she take a curious (and slightly nervous cause Purgatory and weird bottles and yeah, that's not usually a good combo) sniff.
"Schnapps," Nicole says, eyeing Waverly over the bottle as she runs it under her nose, taking another sniff. "Peppermint," she says and there's this smile just starting to tug at the corner of her lips (Waverly hasn't named it - yet - but it just screams 'could you be any cuter') and it's one she hasn't seen in a bit and, until right this very moment, Waverly hadn't realized how much she missed it. "You got your liquid courage from peppermint schnapps."
"Hey!" Waverly nudges her in the leg with her toes. "I happen to like schnapps," she says, letting her foot linger against Nicole's calf maybe a moment (or two) longer than a nudge might suggest. "And don't you make fun," she says, and yes, foot lingering and now rubbing, gently, sliding up Nicole's leg and oh, there's the hem of her sleep shorts… "Or I won't share. No schnapps or bubblegum sake for you and I won't teach you how to make my world famous watermelon whiskey cocktail."
Yes, Waverly is aware - even before Nicole's lips purse in disgust - that that is something… less… than a real threat.
"World famous?" Nicole asks, her own hand slipping under the blanket and catching Waverly's foot as it slide up along her thigh. "Really?"
Waverly shrugs, keeping her expression neutral as Nicole doesn't push her foot away and, in fact, only guides it higher and OK, that's new. "Fine," she says, "Purgatory famous but it's the hit of the Summer Festival every year." Nicole's hand stops moving, just resting along the smooth skin of Waverly's leg, just above her ankle, fingers tracing light circles and the touch isn't new, but something about it - something about it after those words - does something to Waves she can't quite explain.
But she likes it. Like, a lot.
Nicole laughs and it might be the first real one Waverly's heard in a while (she knows a 'while' is only a few hours but it feels so much longer) and it warms her in a way all the tea and schnapps in the world could never manage.
"Peppermint and bubblegum and watermelon," Nicole lists off. She shifts under the blanket, slipping one leg out and then over Waverly's. "You do realize liquor is not supposed to taste like candy, right?"
Waverly shakes her head. "And here I had such hopes for you," she says, "but you're just another one of them."
Nicole's fingers still for a moment on her leg and her eyes darken and Waverly knows those signs and she quickly runs it all on replay, trying to find her misstep, her mistake, the thing that she did (again) to mess it all up.
One of them.
Oh. Oh.
"I'm so sorry," Waverly says, clamping a hand around Nicole's leg (and not to keep her from running) (not just) her eyes squeezing shut as she curses herself in her head. "I meant a booze snob not a… you know… a…"
Shit. Shit shit fucking shit.
"A unicorn?"
Waverly's eyes pop open and yup, Nicole's still there (iron grip on the leg and all) but her eyes, they're not dark anymore, they're clear and her smile's back and her fingers are moving again, tracing their way along Waverly's calf. "It's OK," she says. "I know you didn't mean… that," she says, but there's a hesitation, a pause, like just before a 'but' and then... "Besides," Nicole says slowly, "you're one of… them… too, right?"
Waverly knows Nicole doesn't mean a booze snob and she nods (maybe a little faster than she should) even though, now that she thinks about it, that part of this is maybe the one thing she hasn't overthought but now…well, now, she's not gonna be able to think of anything else.
And… shit… (again)... she doesn't know, she's never thought about it, like is this just a Nicole thing or is it an every woman thing, like is she gonna start checking girls out on the street or what if an attractive woman comes into Shorty's - you know, once they manage to get it back from Bobo (cause they will) - and starts flirting with her… wait… will she, will she flirt, will she know, like… gaydar… oh God, does she ping now and what does that mean -
"Waves," there's a gentle pressure on her leg as Nicole squeezes and Waverly snaps back to reality, to the here and the now and her girlfriend's just staring at her with this unreadable look on her face. "You can breathe, baby," Nicole says. "I was kidding."
Waverly shakes her head (again, with the too quickly.) "No," she says. "It's fine, I'm fine, everything's…"
"Fine?"
So not fine. "Dammit," Waverly mutters, hiding her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry," she says through her fingers. "I just… it's all so… and I never even… it was always… boys… and then there was… you… and so not a boy… and I…" She shakes her head again. "I'm so sorry," she says.
Again.
Nicole sets the bottle down on the table and extracts her legs so she can slip off the couch and oh - here it is, the moment, the one Waverly's been waiting for, the one she was looking for and isn't that just so like her, cause she couldn't find it so she made it, she made it happen - and now Nicole's gonna go, she's gonna leave, she's gonna walk right out the front door.
Shit
(Did she already say that?)
Waverly's about five seconds from reminding her that she'll never make it, she'll never survive out in the Witch ('remember Bailey', she'll say) when she feels Nicole drop back down onto the couch (on her end, like there, like right there) and then there's an arm around her, tugging her close and she shifts, scooting herself off the couch and onto Nicole, straddling her lap and, well…this is good.
Cause it's gonna be kinda hard for her to leave. You know, from this position.
"I was twelve," Nicole says and Waverly nods cause, well, she knows Nicole was twelve, so was she - at one point, though some might argue that point is, you know, now or, at least, every time she's around Nicole - and she's not sure at all where this is going, so nodding seems safe.. "I was twelve," Nicole repeats, "the first time I kissed a girl."
Oh. That's where.
Nicole reaches up and tucks an errant strand of hair behind Waverly's ear, letting her hand linger, fingers stroking gently against cheek. "There was this party."
"All great stories start with those four words," Waverly says and Nicole laughs and nods.
Even if she's not entirely sure how great this story is.
"It was at this guy's house," she says. "His name was Ryan," and there's those lips of disgust again. "He was super popular and, objectively, cute, but not hot or even handsome and maybe someday I'll tell you about the two times I broke his nose."
She only meant to do it once.
It - the party - was a pool party and Nicole was the only girl there not in a bikini. "I wasn't really equipped for one then," she says, "and yes, I realize that's different now and yes, before you ask, I do own… a few… and, yes, if you play your cards right and don't ever make me drink anything bubblegum, you might even get to see me in one or two of them."
There's a moment when Waverly almost - as in she's so fucking close and the words are practically dancing on her tongue - says 'or out of them' and God, as if she needed more evidence that she spent way too much time with Champ.
The party was like most twelve year old parties, or at least the ones in the days before Snapchat. There were lots of shy glances and a few stammering attempts at flirting that never really got past the 'uhhhh… hi' stage and most of the girls were secretly embarrassed by their bodies (or their lack of one) and almost all the boys looked like they'd done got themselves smacked by puberty like a Tyson right hook they hadn't quite shaken off yet.
In short, it was the closest thing to hell Nicole could ever imagine. Until, you know, Purgatory.
"It started to rain," she says, "and then the lightning came and we all had to get out of the pool and no one wanted to do that cause at least in the water you were kinda… hidden, you know?"
Waverly nods. She might know a thing or two about hiding.
"Ryan had this covered deck," Nicole says. Her hands have found their way to Waverly's hips, her thumbs slipping just up and just over the hem of her girlfriend's shorts, rubbing tiny circles against Waverly's skin. "So, we all ran for the house and sat in a big circle on the deck, just waiting out the storm."
That sounds a bit… familiar.
To this day, Nicole doesn't remember who said it, who had the oh so bright idea to play spin the bottle (you know, in daylight, with Ryan's parents just on the other side of the screen door and, again, in daylight) though, if she had to guess?
"Nicole R.," she says. "There were two of us. I was Nicole H. and she was Nicole R. and other than the names, it was easy to tell us apart." Nicole's hands slide up, skirting under Waverly's shirt, slipping around until they're resting on the small of her back and Waverly isn't even sure Nicole's noticed she's doing it and she's certainly not going to tell her.
She might stop.
If Nicole has noticed, she doesn't show it, she just keeps on keeping on. "I was short," she says, "and everything was kinda… stumpy." She frowns, just a little, her grip tightening almost imperceptibly. "That was the word my mother used, at least."
Family. Can't live with 'em, can trust them to make you feel even worse about every little thing.
Nicole - R, the other one - was not stumpy. She was tall and blonde and all legs and boobs and legs and perfect eyebrows and did she mention legs?
"She had the most obvious crush ever on Ryan," Nicole says. "But she could never even get him to look at her, but now… she had him trapped. His buddies were all for it cause, well, for most of them this was probably the only shot they had at kissing a girl, so he couldn't exactly back out."
Waverly's gotta hand it to Nicole - R, not H - it was a good plan, a solid plan, the kinda thing Wynonna might have come up with if, you know, she'd ever had any trouble (even after) getting boys to kiss her.
"I didn't even know people actually played spin the bottle," Waverly says. Her hands are in her lap, pressed gently against Nicole's stomach and she can feel the gentle rise and fall of her girlfriend's every breath. "I thought it was just some bullshit parents told their kids about to make it sound like they'd had some wild youth."
I kissed a boy and we weren't dating so I know all about the crazy shit you youngins get up to and they'll be none of that under my roof, Miss Waverly.
"Right?" Nicole says. "It just seemed so stupid and childish and ridiculous and of course I wanted to play so bad cause… well… stumpy."
Sometimes, when it comes to wanting, teenage boys have nothing on teenage girls.
It started slow - the game - with errant spins that didn't land on anyone and chaste kisses that wouldn't have looked out of place between brothers and sisters and the bottle kept getting closer and closer and Nicole kept wondering and wondering.
Who? Who would it land on? And who did she want it to land on?
"It was Nicole R.'s spin before mine," she says, not seeming to notice the way Waverly shifts on her lap when two of her fingers dip just under the waistband of her shorts, not anywhere… you know… yet, but still… "She whipped that thing around and it went and it went and it went and in the end…"
In the end, Nicole R. spun Nicole H. and the rest was history. Except…
"I didn't want to kiss her," Nicole says. "Like no way, no how, no chance." She does notice the way Waverly keeps - discreetly - trying to tug her shirt up, slowly, bit by bit, exposing just the tiniest bit of skin. She notices, but doesn't do anything about it.
She might stop.
"She was a girl," Nicole says. "And I liked boys. I knew I liked boys and I'd always liked boys, you know, since I was eleven and realized they didn't all have cooties."
Ryan had cooties. Literally. Three STDs his senior year and Nicole heard Nicole R. in the locker room one day thanking God that she'd never actually… you know.
"I don't think she wanted to kiss me either," she says, hoping Waverly doesn't notice the slight hitch in her voice as a little more of her stomach comes into view - and feel (and thank God she did her crunches last night while Waverly was asleep) - "and she probably wouldn't have, if Ryan and all his dipshit friends hadn't made such a big deal out of it."
The only thing better than kissing a teenage girl when you're a teenage boy? Two teenage girls kissing each other.
Nicole wasn't expecting it - the kiss or what came next - but suddenly there had been lips on hers. They were soft and they were gentle and they had no idea what the fuck they were doing but that was almost... incidental (cause, really, it wasn't like hers knew either)... and then, just like that, it was over.
"They cheered," she says. "Ryan and his friends. They cheered and they whooped and they hollered and Nicole R. smiled like she'd won the lottery and a couple of the other girls gave her such dirty looks cause now they were gonna have to do it too."
Waverly's hands glide under Nicole's shirt - she's finally given up on discreet, it was taking too long - but even with her hands so… occupied… she's heard all of it and she's staring down at her girlfriend like her every word, even the tiniest ones, matters and, for Nicole, that's new and as much as she likes where those hands seemed headed?
She thinks she likes that even more.
"What about you?" Waverly asks. "They were giving her dirty looks. What were you doing?"
"Hoping that when they spun they landed on me too?" Nicole laughs and Waverly pinches her sides, making a mental note that that causes hips to buck and that's something to remember. "I really wasn't doing much of anything," Nicole says. "I wasn't even thinking, really. I just remember that it felt… like… like math."
"Math?"
Nicole nods, her own hands moving again, still not anywhere, except maybe those dimples right at the base of Waverly's back and that's a pretty good 'not anywhere' to be.
"I sucked at math, even when I was twelve," she says. "I could write an essay in like an hour and I could tell you the name of every President, in order, and I was the only one who did the dissections right in science class."
Waverly hated dissection day. If, back then, she'd known some of the shit she'd see on a near daily basis now? She'd have aced that thing.
Nicole shifts under her and Waverly adjust her legs, tightening them around the other woman's hips and… God… how had she and Champ spent all that time together touching and rubbing and… ugh… and none of it had done anything to her that even came close to what the feeling of Nicole's hips against her thighs does?
How had she not known?
"My math homework… it made me want to drink," Nicole says. "Like, I probably would've even gone for bubblegum sake want to drink." Waverly pinches her again and, yup, there's those bucking hips and oh, she's so gonna use that move. "When I would finally figure out a problem, it was like… this relief would wash over me and I could breathe again," she says. "And then, inevitably, there'd be another one and there'd be this sense of dread and my stomach would tighten and my fingers would twitch and my heart would race."
Waverly spares a quick glance down, drinking in the briefest sight of her girlfriend's skin under her shirt and under her fingers and yeah, she knows that feeling.
"Kissing a girl was like that," Nicole says, "even with the dread, at least at first, cause I knew… as right as it was and as me as it was…"
"It wasn't going to be that way for everyone," Waverly says watching as her girlfriend slowly nods. "Your mom?" Another nod. "But you got over it, right? The dread?"
One more nod.
"Yeah," Nicole says. "The second time I ever kissed you."
Waverly's hands still against Nicole's skin and that whole air rushing out of the room thing is happening and she doesn't know what to say (yes, she does, but she can't, not yet) and she hopes that somehow Nicole sees it, that somehow she feels it, like maybe there's telepathy or something (it is Purgatory) so even if she can't say it…
"It's OK," Nicole whispers, shifting up on the couch so she and Waverly are face to face, her hands slipping up to cup Waverly's cheeks. "I know."
She knows.
She knows? Shit… telepathy?
"I know you're scared and I know you're confused," Nicole says.
Oh. She knows that. Not quite what Waverly was hoping for, but still…
"I know what it's like to start wondering and trying to figure it all out," Nicole says. "And at least when I went through it I didn't have monsters and back from the dead sisters and… everything that you have to deal with." She tips her forehead against Waverly's, slipping her arms down and around her. "So, it doesn't matter to me if you're a unicorn or if you're more of a horse with a horn that kinda comes and goes or if you're more of a… pony… with some dreams of being a horse…"
Waverly tips her head back. "A pony?"
"I don't know," Nicole mutters. "I got caught up in the unicorn thing and I couldn't figure a graceful way out of it so I just kept going, you know, hoping I'd stumble onto something cause that always seems to work for you and -"
And math.
Waverly's kiss is different, so much different than Nicole R.'s and this one is so much different than the one from the kitchen and so much different from the ones in the barn or on Nedley's couch or in the hallway outside the Black Badge office or any of the others.
Those were good. Those were great.
This… this is them.
Waverly breaks the kiss and Nicole knows she looks kinda silly cause her eyes are still shut and she can't open them (if she sees Waverly right now she can't be held responsible for what she might do) and she can't speak and she's just trying to get her breath back and -
"I love you."
And it's gone. Again.
Nicole does open her eyes then and Waverly's still there, they're both still there and so are those words - the ones she didn't know if she'd ever hear from anyone - and they're right there, hanging between them and that's new too, that there's something between them and it isn't something secret or wrong or potentially world ending (like, for real world ending) and Nicole doesn't know what to say.
(Yes, she does.)
(And she can.)
"I love you too."
And Waverly smiles and that's nothing like math or pretty much anything else, ever and yes, there's a Witch outside and yes, she's whipping up quite a mess and Nicole's quite sure she's not done with them just yet. But that's alright, she's grown kind of fond of storms.
They've been pretty good to her.
