Title: The Ten Times Waverly Earp was Definitely NOT on a Date with Nicole Haught

Author / Date of Inception: Kimberly21570 / May 2016

Fandom: Wynonna Earp

Pairing: Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught—WayHaught

Synopsis: This WayHaught story follows Waverly and Nicole's journey back in time as they reflect upon the moments they've shared together—the moments that led to Waverly's self-discovery, and ultimately drew her into Nicole's arms. Some moments are light and fun, and others, dark and heavy, because it is the coalescence of those shared experiences that leads us to fall in love.

Chapter Summary: Chapter 8 takes us to the day Waverly finally dumps Chump, er… Champ. We'll meet Nicole's sisters, and take a deeper glimpse into her relationships with them. You'll also meet a couple of my original characters for whom I've written quite a lot in past stories. Just a way of offering a little Thanksgiving treat to readers who've been with me for a while, and who have embraced these characters with such fierceness, while giving new readers a glimpse at what they might be missing. I've had many readers asking if I plan to write any original fiction for purchase, and I'm very seriously considering writing a few short stories featuring these characters, as well as perhaps some of my other original characters, so let me know what you think. Anyway, this is another rather long one—about 27 pages total this time, so once again, grab a drink and a snack, sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Rating: Chapter 8 is rated PG-13 for a bit of coarse language and sexual referenes. This chapter continues us on that slow burn toward NC-17. Anyone who is familiar with my writing knows it's well worth the wait. My theory on ratings is… if I wouldn't want my 16-year-old niece to read it, it gets an R or NC-17 rating; otherwise, it's usually gonna be PG-13.

Disclaimer: The characters of Waverly, Wynonna, Willa, and Ward Earp, Nicole Haught, John Henry "Doc" Holliday, Deputy Marshal Xavier Dolls, Gus and Curtis McCready, Sheriff Randy Nedley, Pete and Kyle York, Hetty Tate, and washed-up rodeo clown Champ Hardy, as well as the Shorty's Saloon, the Black Badge Division offices, the Earp Homestead, and Mama Olive's settings are owned by creator Beau Smith, NBCUniversal, the Syfy Channel, and SEVEN24 Films IDW Entertainment. Rights to the song Closing Time by Semisonic belong to composer Dan Wilson and Warner/Chappell Music, Inc. The original characters of Kyler, Trinity, Hayley, and Nikolas Haught are the property of this author, and any resemblance to fictional characters, or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental—though I do openly admit that Nicole's sisters are named after two of my two eldest great nieces and a great nephew. I adore those kids, and I just couldn't resist. No copyright infringement intended with regard to any of the aforementioned persons or entities.

With the exception of scenes from Episode 1.06, Constant Cravings, which aired on 5.6.2016, the story content and dialogue in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.

There's no beta on this, since I'm just writing it for fun, so any and all mistakes are my own. If you see anything major, I'd appreciate the heads-up so I can correct it. Thank you again for all the follows, favorites, kudos, and comments. Your interest in this story is deeply appreciated, and I honestly feel overwhelmed—in the best possible way—by your words of support and encouragement with regard to my work. I've been writing for more than 15 years, and I have to say, the compliments I've read from you all regarding this story continue to be some of the most generous I've ever received. I lack words to express how much that means to me, but I will always endeavor to respond personally to each comment. In the meantime, thank you from the bottom of my WayHaught-loving Earper heart.

Happy Thanksgiving to those who observe the tradition this week. And to all of you, wherever you are, whatever holidays you may celebrate, may you all know joy, peace, and love during this Holiday Season and beyond.

I hope y'all enjoy Chapter 8—Closing Time…

Kim

The Ten Times Waverly Earp was Definitely NOT on a Date with Nicole Haught

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

— Seneca (Roman philosopher, Mid-First Century AD) / Dan Wilson, Closing Time by Semisonic

Chapter 8 – Closing Time:

Friday, May 27, 2016… Ghost River County Municipal Offices—3:45 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Setting aside the unanswered questions, Nicole hit the button to accept her sister's call. "Hey, Counselor," she greeted, struggling to keep her emotions in check. She had no doubt why Kyler was calling. Reeling from the misunderstanding with Waverly on the street that morning, and the subsequent, confusing exchange with her in the cruiser, Nicole had called her sister in tears, seeking an empathic ear. Thankfully, despite Kyler's growing aggravation with Nicole for refusing to just go after what she wanted, she'd found exactly what she needed from her childhood rival and lifelong confidant. She still found it odd that such diametrically opposed roles could coexist in a single person, but they did, and she was grateful.

And now, here was Kyler, calling to check up on her, probably on her way home from work. In moments of distress, Nicole could always count on her to be both the voice of reason, and the mother hen, even when those roles too, were diametrically opposed. Leaning back in her chair, Nicole propped her right boot on the edge of her desk, hoping the casual physical demeanor would suffuse her, covering her mounting distress.

"Hey, yourself, Officer," Kyler greeted, her tone serious. "Your day improved any since we talked this morning?"

Kyler wasn't one for beating around the bush, and Nicole could hear the concern in her voice. "I still haven't heard from her, if that's what you mean," she sighed.

"Have you reached out to her?" Kyler asked pointedly.

"Well, no," Nicole answered.

"Because?" Kyler couldn't wait to hear the excuse this time.

Delivered on an admonishing tone, the question sent Nicole scrambling for reasonable justification. "She's at work, Ky. And you know how I feel about texting when it's important. That's just asking for an argument."

"Come on, Cole," Kyler snapped. "How long are you gonna pussyfoot around this?"

She sounded pissed, and Nicole couldn't stand that. "Wow, you're really not pulling any punches today, are you?" she responded. It wasn't a question. "Why are you so angry with me about this?"

"I'm not angry," Kyler exhaled, relenting. "I'm frustrated. And I'm concerned, because I know how tender your heart is, and right now, it's being ripped in two. I can't stand to see you like this."

"I know," Nicole empathized. Kyler only wanted what was best for her. But she felt paralyzed when it came to Waverly. "But you don't need to worry about me. I'm fine."

"Ever the one in denial," Kyler sighed. It was Nicole's Achilles heel; if one could ever find a weakness in her. Most couldn't. That's why it had driven her so crazy, growing up in Nicole's shadow.

"What can I say?" Nicole replied, a shrug of her shoulders evident in her tone. "It serves me well."

"You're in love with that girl, Cole," Kyler pointed out unnecessarily. "Can't deny that."

"Not helping here!" Nicole grumbled. Lifting her coffee mug, she took a sip. It was tepid; much like her mood toward this conversation. She sighed internally, and set the mug down on the desk with a loud thump.

"Hey, you know me," Kyler said with a teasing lilt. "I'm like a dog with a bone; I never let go."

"Don't remind me," Nicole said dryly.

"So when are you gonna bite the damned bullet, and do somethin' about it?" Kyler pressed.

"I can't," Nicole answered. "And you know it." It didn't matter how long it took; it had to be Waverly's choice. Waverly had to be the one to come to her. She was adamant about that.

"Can't… or won't?" Kyler challenged.

"She's not ready, Kyler," Nicole insisted.

"Sure sounded like she was ready the night of that bonfire," Kyler pointed out unhelpfully.

"She asked me to be patient, and wait for her, Kyler," Nicole reminded. "And that's what I'm doing."

"Even if it tears your heart out?" Kyler challenged.

"You annoy the hell outta me sometimes, you know that?" Nicole groused, avoiding the question.

"So you've told me," Kyler grinned. "And I love you too." She paused for a breath, then asked, "You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Nicole assured. "Promise."

"Look, I know I'm being a pain in the ass about this, but… I'm concerned about you, Cole," Kyler said gently. "I've never seen you cry over a woman before."

A faint smile touched the corners of Nicole's mouth as she thought of Waverly. "I've never met a woman who was worth my tears... Until Waverly," she said with a touch of wistfulness in her tone. "Believe me, once you meet her, you'll understand."

"Yeah, well, the two of you had better work this shit out before then, or I might just have to strangle her," Kyler said, only half-joking.

Nicole laughed. "Duly, noted."

"Seriously, Cole. Call her. Text her," Kyler encouraged. "Hell, send smoke signals if you have to," she teased, drawing a grin from her sister. "Just do something, for Christ's sake. It doesn't have to be a long, drawn-out conversation. Just… reach out, and let her know you're thinking of her."

"I'll think about it," Nicole said noncommittally.

Kyler sighed. She knew that was the best she would get out of Nicole—at least for the moment. "You annoy the hell outta me sometimes too, y'know," she grumbled affectionately.

Her tone was harsh, but Nicole could hear the smile on her sister's lips. "Talk later," she said, knowing the conversation was over.

The line went silent then, leaving her alone with her thoughts once again. A faint smile flitted across her lips, as she remembered the morning Waverly dropped her off at the airport for her flight to Boston. As much as she'd looked forward to seeing her sisters, and enjoyed the time spent with them, a part of her was sorry she hadn't been home when Waverly finally dumped Champ on his ass. If she'd been there, then maybe, just maybe, things would be different right now.


Friday, May 6, 2016… Calgary International Airport—5:00 a.m. Mountain Daylight Time

"Wow, this place is practically deserted," Waverly noted when they entered the terminal at Calgary International Airport. She'd never been inside the airport before, so she had no idea what to expect. Still, it seemed surprisingly empty, even for five in the morning. Thankfully though, that meant they had no issues spotting the check-in kiosks and personnel for Nicole's airline. Waverly decided to focus on that. It was better than the alternative—actually dealing with the fact that Nicole would be gone. For a whole entire week! It was unfathomable.

"Most airports are this time of the morning," Nicole commented distractedly, her own thoughts of leaving Waverly behind foremost in her mind. It's ridiculous, she thought. We're not even together, and I can barely stand the thought of being away from her.

"How long's your flight?" Waverly asked, continuing with idle conversation as they walked toward the ticket counter. There was only one ticket agent, and a handful of people standing in line. From what she could gather, most people just used the check-in kiosks nearby.

"'Bout four and a half hours," Nicole answered. She carried a garment bag containing several "suitable" clothing options, as her grandfather would put it, including a rather elegant black dress for Trinity's graduation party. Nikolas Haught did not suffer the presence of blue jeans or sweats at his dinner table—even when it wasn't in his own house. And so she had packed accordingly. The fact that she could have traveled with less cumbersome baggage if not for him was not lost on her. Sometimes, the man was insufferable. The remainder of her clothing, toiletries, and the like, were packed in the well-organized backpack that was slung casually over her right shoulder. And tucked beneath the backpack, she had a small carry-on with her laptop and Kindle to keep her occupied during the flight.

Nodding, Waverly casually draped an arm through Nicole's, her shoulder brushing Nicole's bicep as they walked. "You'll text me when you get there?"

Tilting her head, Nicole smiled down at her. "The minute we touch down," she said reassuringly.

"Maybe you should wait 'til you get to the gate," Waverly said. "You know, once you stop moving." She knew it was ridiculous, but she couldn't shake the fear of something happening to Nicole—the fear that she would go away, and never come back.

"Would you like me to text you at every stoplight on the cab ride to Trini's, as well?" Nicole teased lightly.

Waverly made a face at her, playfully swatting her arm. "Don't make fun," she chided.

Laughing, Nicole dropped her backpack and garment bag to the ground, gathering Waverly close as they stood in line at the ticket counter. "You worry too much, Waves," she casually declared, hoping her sense of calm would alleviate some of Waverly's fears. And then she smiled into those soft green eyes, marveling at how they looked almost a light brown against the suede vest Waverly was wearing over a lightweight cream-colored sweater. "I'll be back before you can even miss me," she said—an attempt at making them both feel better. It failed miserably.

"It's already too late for that," Waverly confessed. Leaning into her, she looked up into those clear russet eyes. "I started missing you the moment you told me you were leaving."

Nicole felt the sharp pang of longing in her chest. You say the most incredible things to me. She struggled to hold her composure. "Well, maybe that means it'll get easier while I'm gone, and you'll be fine by the time I get back," she suggested with a shrug, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Not a chance," Waverly declared.

"For me, either," Nicole admitted. "But I promise, we'll Skype or Facetime every day. Even if I have to hide in the bathroom to get a little privacy," she joked.

Waverly laughed. "Yeah, I guess privacy comes at a premium with four girls in one apartment," she granted.

"You have no idea," Nicole said dryly. "Thank God my parents and grandparents are staying in a hotel." She sounded as relieved as she looked.

The line moved forward, and Nicole gestured that they needed to move with it. Reaching down, she grabbed her bags with one hand, keeping her other arm fastened securely around Waverly's waist. And when they'd shuffled a few feet closer to the counter, she dropped the bags again. Over the next several minutes, they moved along in fits and starts, chatting casually as they waited their turn with the ticket agent. And finally, with passport, ticket, and I.D. in hand, Nicole checked in and turned her bags over for the flight.

A few minutes later, they were walking down Concourse B toward the final security checkpoint where they would have to say goodbye. The closer they moved, the more they both dreaded it. And for the first time in her life, Nicole found herself wishing for a long security line. But given the early hour, she knew it wasn't likely at all.

"You get home next Saturday night, right?" Waverly asked for the umpteenth time since Nicole had announced she was going out of town the previous weekend.

"Yep," Nicole confirmed with a playful grin. "Fight lands at eight thirty."

"Sure you don't want me to pick up?" Waverly offered again.

"Absolutely not," Nicole answered firmly. "You have your party already planned, and Nedley has me on the graveyard shift. I'll grab a ride back to my place, shower and change, and head straight to work."

"You could come home a day early, y'know," Waverly suggested.

"I'd love that. But no can do," Nicole replied regretfully. "My folks have a big shindig planned for Friday night, in honor of Trini's graduation. The whole family's gonna be there."

Disappointed, Waverly frowned.

"I'll see you on Sunday, right?" Nicole asked, attempting to brighten Waverly's spirits.

Grinning, Waverly clapped her hands excitedly. "I can't wait," she declared. They'd made plans to spend the day fishing out at Gus's place, and then to have dinner with her that evening. She was far more excited about spending the day with Nicole, than she was about the fishing. But Nicole didn't need to know that.

Christ you're adorable, Nicole thought, watching Waverly's excitement. "Think Wynonna would wanna come along?" she asked, seeking a distraction.

Waverly arched an eyebrow. "I'm beginning to think you have a thing for my sister, Officer Haught," she said teasingly.

"Wanna know my favorite thing about Wynonna?" Nicole asked, locking her gaze on Waverly's.

"Sure?"

Delivered with a hint of uncertainty, Waverly's response made Nicole grin. "Her smart, quirky, beautiful… little sister," she declared.

Blushing, Waverly smiled, and nibbled her bottom lip adorably.

"I don't have thing for Wynonna, Waves," Nicole said sincerely. "I know you guys are kind of reestablishing your relationship right now, and I just don't want her to feel left out."

Overwhelmed by Nicole's endless capacity for empathy, Waverly's heart tripped in her chest. "You're amazing," she breathed.

Nicole blushed at the compliment. "So you think she'd come along?"

Scrunching up her nose, Waverly shook her head. "Not a chance. She's too antsy for fishing," she said. "Can't stay still long enough."

"I should've known," Nicole chuckled. "So… You wanna grab breakfast at Mama Olive's when I get off shift?" she suggested. "We could head out to Gus's right after."

"That sounds great," Waverly readily agreed. She hoped Hetty wouldn't be working that morning. There was always something weird about that girl, but she'd seemed even more… off… when she and Wynonna ran into her at the restaurant late last night.

When they reached the entrance to the security line, Nicole shuffled her feet, feeling increasingly nervous as the moments ticked toward their inevitable separation. Clearing her throat, she smiled. "Thanks for takin' care of Stormy while I'm gone," she said sweetly. "I was gonna have Nedley look in on her, but… she likes you better," she winked.

Waverly vaulted an eyebrow. "Can you blame her?" she intoned.

Laughing, Nicole gathered her close. "I'm gonna miss you, Waves," she murmured against Waverly's ear.

Wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist, Waverly leaned into the solid strength of her. "I'm gonna miss you too, Officer Haught."

They held one another for far longer than either necessary or prudent; neither of them wanting to be the one to let go. But finally, Nicole forced herself to pull away, just far enough to search Waverly's face, to gaze into her eyes.

Waverly knew it was time then. Gently grasping Nicole's face in her hands, she lifted up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips against Nicole's cheek. "Travel safe, okay?" she whispered.

The tenderness in Waverly's tone, in her eyes, nearly brought Nicole to her knees. All she could do was nod in response, as she bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Brushing her fingertips against Waverly's cheek, she swallowed hard, and then with one last glance, she turned, and walked away.


Friday, May 6, 2016… Cambridge, Massachusetts—2:15 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Seven hours later, Nicole finally arrived at Trinity's apartment in Cambridge, just a few miles away from the MIT campus. She paid the cabbie, collected her bags, and then paused on the sidewalk to text Waverly. The exchange was brief, but pleasant as always, and once she was finished, she practically ran to the main entrance, where she punched in the code for her sister's unit.

The flight had been riddled with thoughts that she probably shouldn't have been thinking, and her heart still ached with the pain of leaving Waverly, but at least the tears had ceased to fall. She hoped the latter was true for Waverly, as well. And now that she was finally here, all she wanted was to relax for a little while, and enjoy the time with her family.

It only took a few seconds for the door to buzz—like they were standing there on top of it or something. Grinning, she opened it, and raced up the stairs to the second-level apartment where Trinity and Kyler were waiting to welcome her with open arms. She dropped her bags unceremoniously in the middle of the hallway, and ran toward them, all of them squealing like excited little girls when they met halfway. None of them knew how long it lasted, but when the squealing finally ended, Nicole took a moment to really look at them.

"Wow, you two look amazing," she declared. It felt like ages since she'd last seen them, despite their frequent Skype and Facetime chats. "The new cut suits you," she said to Trinity of her shorter locks. It was a bold choice for her, and Nicole really liked it.

"Thanks," Trinity grinned. "I just had it done yesterday."

"And you…" Nicole intoned, taking Kyler's hand, and spinning her around. "Looks like you've been hitting the gym pretty hard."

"Nah," Kyler said dismissively. "I just chalk it up to a lot of really great sex. Getting engaged really bumped up Kendalyn's game," she bragged with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Jealous, Nicole groaned in response. Both of her sisters laughed.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Cole," Kyler granted. "I guess sexual frustration suits you," she tormented.

Nicole challenged her with that look. "Don't even start."

"Who, me?" Kyler countered innocently.

Trinity just shook her head, and snatched Nicole's backpack from the floor. The two of them never stopped. Not that she would want them any other way. Kyler followed suit, grabbing the garment bag, and together, they ushered Nicole toward the apartment.

"Love what you've done with the place," Nicole said drolly, eyeing the stacks of boxes scattered around the living room once she and her things were finally inside. Instinctively, she kicked her sneakers off just inside the door.

"Oh, shut up," Trinity muttered, stashing Nicole's backpack on the far side of the sleeper sofa, while Kyler hung the garment bag in the coat closet near the front door.

Nicole laughed. "Actually, it kinda looks like it did the last time I was here," she teased.

"That's because you haven't been back since you helped move me in here. Two years ago," Trinity admonished, emphasizing the timeframe. She had lived in the dorms for the first two years, and then decided to move off campus starting her Junior year.

"Guilty as charged," Nicole granted. The expression on her face said she regretted the lengthy absence.

"Well, you're helping me move back home, so I guess I can forgive you," Trinity said in a grudging tone, as she draped an arm around Nicole's waist. But the grin on her lips gave her away.

"Gee, that's awfully big of you," Nicole said dryly.

Trinity just laughed, and squeezed her tightly. "I'm glad you're here."

"When's the kid get here?" Nicole asked, referring to their youngest sister. She'd noticed her absence immediately.

"Uh, the kid is already here," Hayley said, appearing from the kitchen where she'd been busy preparing lunch for the four of them. She tried to sound annoyed as she emphasized the unflattering nickname Nicole had called her, but the bright smile on her face belied her cantankerous manner. "And you'd better watch it with the name calling, or I might just poison your lunch," she teased.

Nicole's smile widened the moment she set eyes on her baby sister. For a moment, all she could do was stare at her. She looked so beautiful, so much like their mother, standing there in jeans and a Patriots jersey, her thick mop of streaky blonde waves pulled back in a messy tuft, those striking blue eyes sparkling like sunshine on the ocean, and two perfectly symmetrical dimples accenting her cheeks. She looked so grown up; Nicole could hardly believe it had been less than three months since she'd last seen her. She had to gather her wits about her before she could speak again. "Well thank God you're in charge of the food. Your poisoned lunch is still a shit-ton safer than Trini's best effort," she said drolly.

"Hey!" Trinity protested, snapping Nicole's arm with the back of her hand. "My cookin's never killed anyone."

"Not yet…" Kyler supplied unhelpfully.

Trinity scowled at her.

The sting had already dissipated when Nicole turned toward Trinity, giving her a disgruntled look in response to the physical reproach. "Ouch!"

Trinity rolled her eyes. "You're an awfully big sissy for a former Marine," she accused, playfully tugging the bill of Nicole's Marine's ball cap.

Ignoring her, Nicole turned her attention back to Hayley. "I didn't expect you to be here so soon," she said, with excitement in her tone as she moved across the room. "Oh, my god, Hayles, get over here."

It only took a moment for Hayley to jump into Nicole's waiting arms, squealing excitedly as she practically strangled her with the force of her hug. The last time Hayley had hugged Nicole this tightly was the day Nicole returned home from her second tour in Afghanistan. "I've missed you so much!" she exclaimed.

"I've missed you too," Nicole said affectionately.

Once Hayley released her, Nicole gently grasped her biceps and leaned back, simply taking her in once again. Her stocky, athletic frame seemed to show off more curves and more muscle than it had just a few months earlier. Her muscles were leaner, more well-defined. She'd clearly been working hard toward her goals. "You look great, Hayles," she said proudly.

Hayley beamed, her blue eyes dancing. "Thanks, Cole," she said, clearly pleased by the praise from her big sister.

Nicole vaulted an eyebrow then, eyeing her sister's jersey. "Patriots, huh?"

Delivered on a teasing lilt, the comment disguised as a question made Hayley grin. "When in Rome," she shrugged.

Nicole laughed, and draped an arm around her baby sister. "How's my favorite Snugabug?" she grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Hayley rolled her eyes. "Are you ever gonna stop callin' me that?"

Nicole arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Would you really want me to?"

"Not really, no," Hayley giggled. Impulsively, she hugged Nicole again. And then she grasped her hand, pulling her toward the sofa. "Lunch won't be ready for another half hour. Come sit with me."

Willingly, Nicole complied. "Where are Mom and Dad? Grandparents?" she asked as they settled in for a chat. She knew they would all be there. They always were. And the rest of the family would celebrate with Trinity at the party the following weekend.

"They're at the hotel," Trinity reported. "We're supposed to meet them for dinner at seven thirty."

"Great! So what've we got planned until then?" Nicole queried, as she curled her long legs and tucked her feet up beneath her.

"We've got plenty of time for you to tell us all about this woman you've met," Hayley declared. She was so excited she squeezed Nicole again as she cuddled up next to her on the sofa.

"There's not that much to tell," Nicole said, almost warily.

"Yeah, I call bullshit on that," Trinity challenged. So far, only Kyler had been granted any details, and Trini hated being left out of the loop. "Now spill."

"You're as bossy as your older sister, you know that?" Nicole accused.

Trinity smirked. "Which one?"

"Funny," Nicole said without humor.

"So come on," Hayley nudged. "Tell us about her!"

Nicole couldn't hold back the grin that teased at the corners of her mouth. "Waverly is… incredible. She's really smart, and… she's funny, in a quirky sort of way. Gosh, she makes me laugh so much. And she's tough, but she's really tender too. And sweet. And she's… awkward in the most adorable way, and… she's beautiful. God, she's so damned beautiful she makes my heart hurt."

The more Nicole gushed, the more excited Hayley became, until finally, she was squealing as she hugged her again. "Oh, my god, you are seriously in love with this girl!"

"Okay, okay," Nicole said, attempting to extricate herself from her sister's stranglehold. "I think you're gettin' a little ahead of things here."

"You should marry the girl before she gets away," Trinity declared in a tone that tolerated no argument.

Nicole grimaced. "Marry her?" she said doubtfully. "I need to get her to agree to a date first—don't ya think?"

"Oh, please," Kyler said dismissively. "I've seen the pictures. You've been dating for weeks."

Arching an eyebrow, Nicole barked out a sarcastic laugh. "Tell that to Waverly," she said wryly.

Hayley gasped and Trinity squealed. "You've got pictures?" they said in unison.

"Hand over your phone," Trinity demanded, opening and closing her hand in a motion that said "gimme." At the same moment, Hayley planted her hands on her hips, demanding to know why she hadn't already seen them.

Laughing, Nicole leaned back into the sofa, and shoved her hand into her pocket, retrieving the phone.

The moment it was free, Hayley grabbed it from her hand, and then Nicole stood from the sofa, walking toward the kitchen.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Hayley whined. "You didn't unlock it. What's the code?"

Pausing at the entrance to the kitchen, Nicole smirked. "The bossy one demanded my phone, but neither of you asked me to unlock it," she tormented. Sometimes a little power was entertaining. "Have fun, girls. I'm gonna get some of this lunch. It smells fabulous." And then she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving them to their own devices.


Friday, May 27, 2016… Shorty's Saloon—3:45 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

"Hey, Waverly…"

The sound of Champ's voice startled Waverly, causing her to visibly cringe. He hadn't dared show his face at Shorty's since the day she dumped him—at least not during one of her shifts. So why was he here today?

Waverly steadied herself by taking a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Turning toward him, she made a real effort not to grit her teeth as she plastered on her best fake smile. "Champ," she said flatly. She reached below the bar, grabbing a cardboard coaster, and slapping it onto the smooth, shiny surface of the bar. "What can I get you?"

Offering her a sheepish look, Champ shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and shrugged. "Another chance?" he said, his tone begging for absolution.

"Excuse me?" Waverly said incredulously.

"Come on, Waverly," Champ whined. He rounded the edge of the bar, sidling up to her before she could block his path. "Just give me a chance to prove myself."

Raising her eyebrows, Waverly blew out an exasperated breath. "You've had more than your fair share."

"Just one more. Please?" Champ begged. "I love you, Waverly. I swear things'll be different this time. I'll even get you that ring I owe you—if that's what you want."

Before he finished his declaration, his hands were on her waist, and she struggled to free herself. "Knock it off," she commanded, shoving him away.

He stumbled backward, crashing into the countertop behind the bar. Noticing the men at the bar were staring at him, his face flushed in embarrassment. When he righted himself, he flashed a confident grin their way, and moved toward her again. "Aw, Babe, don't be like that," he whimpered.

"I'm not your babe," Waverly snapped.

"You okay, Waverly?" Pete York asked, pausing his game of pool when he noticed the physical scuffle between them. He'd meant it earlier when he said that Champ never had treated Waverly right. Too bad she'd shut him down before he could ask her out. Maybe this was his way in, he thought.

"Yeah, I've got this," Waverly called back. "Thanks, Pete."

And then she turned her attention back to the source of her irritation. "I'm sorry, but… it's closing time, Champ," she said in a tone that brooked no dispute. She knew now, without a doubt, exactly who she wanted to take her home—and it sure as hell wasn't Champ Hardy. Now, if only she could find the courage to actually tell her.

"What?" Champ's face contorted in confusion. "What in fuck are you talkin' about, Waverly?" he grumbled. "It's not even four in the afternoon."

Waverly rolled her eyes. Was he really that dense? "It's over, Champ," she reiterated. "And I'm moving on. I suggest you do the same."

"Is this about that fuckin' cop?" Champ snarled. "Officer What's-'er-Name?"

"It's Officer Haught," Waverly corrected once again. "And no, this isn't about Nicole."

"Bullshit!" Champ snapped. "I've seen the way you look at her. You never looked at me that way."

"I didn't dump your sorry ass because of Nicole, Champ," Waverly firmly insisted. "I dumped you because I deserve to be treated like a person, not your personal property, or a conquest. And I deserve not to be cheated on by some jerk who would try to screw my own sister—in my bed!"

"So this is about Wynonna," he sighed. When was she gonna let that shit go!

"Among others," Waverly replied. "I'm not an idiot, Champ. And I'm not deaf, either. I hear the gossip. I know you've screwed half the girls in this town."

Shrugging, Champ's face adopted a decidedly smug expression. "And yet you stayed."

"Not anymore," Waverly said determinedly. "Now I think it's time for you to go."

"Fine," Champ huffed. "But you're missin' out on the best you'll ever get," he announced loudly enough for the entire bar to hear. Pivoting on his heel, he shuffled toward the door.

"Oh, I beg to differ, Champ. There's nowhere for me to go but up from here," Waverly retorted at equal volume. "And next time you see my Jeep outside, don't bother to come in," she called after him. What she heard in return was the sound of finality, as the front door slammed shut behind him.

Shaking her head, she returned to her previous task, her mind drifting back to that final day spent with him. The memory left her with far more questions than answers.


Friday, May 6, 2016… The Earp Homestead—10:00 a.m. Mountain Daylight Time

"God, there's just so much!" Waverly noted, as she and Champ worked to unload the back of his pickup. He'd been at Gus's at the crack of dawn, helping them sort through some of Curtis's things. She felt guilty because as much as she appreciated his help, she wished Nicole had been with her then… and now. But Nicole was in Boston with her family. And Waverly was stuck here… with Champ.

"Yeah, Curtis spent the last few years of his life hand-picking it, from the Badlands to the Rockies," Champ commented, sounding unimpressed.

Waverly sighed as she dropped another box to the ground. "And you know that because?"

"'Cause every time he went out, I did two things: Drive and dig," Champ answered. "Curtis had a nose for buried stuff. He's kinda like you, uh… into the past of where things come from and stuff before today, uh…"

Seriously, Champ? Waverly thought, staring at him in complete disbelief. Mentally, she shook her head. "You mean like 'history'?" she supplied helpfully as she stared up at him on his perch atop the tailgate of his truck.

Leaned over slightly, his gloved hands on his knees, he was grinning at her like a fool. "Yep," he confirmed. He moved forward and leaned down, tapping beneath her chin with his finger. "How can somebody so pretty be so smart, huh?"

Annoyed, Waverly groaned, the warmth of her breath turning to billowing clouds in the cold morning air. She couldn't believe there was snow on the ground again. "Because they're not mutually exclusive," she muttered under her breath, gritting her teeth as she turned away from him.

He hopped down from the tailgate. "Mm… 'Member the last time we got mutually exclusive?" he said, reminding her of things she wished she could forget. "Now that was historic, eh?"

Laughing nervously as he neared her, she purposely moved away.

But he persisted. "Huh? Right?" he pressed. Grabbing her from behind as she reached into the back of the pickup, he pressed himself against her.

She struggled against him. "Babe—" she protested, as he wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her close, holding her almost possessively. "Not in front of my legacy," she insisted, moving her arms to break free of him.

Aggravated, he back off. What the fuck was her deal lately? It was like she was allergic to his touch. Hell, she barely even wanted him around!

Noticing something loose amongst the boxes and other assorted items in the back of the truck, Waverly reached in. "What's this?" she wondered aloud. "Oh, my God. Uncle Curtis…" she said, pulling an envelope from between two boxes. Her name was scrawled across the front in bold capital letters. She turned toward Champ. "It's his handwriting."

"Uh-huh," Champ intoned, indicating that he wasn't the slightest bit interested. Still, he asked, "What is it?"

Opening the envelope, Waverly pulled out a handwritten note: Every day I sit, my beautiful mug in front; there is but one tune. C.

"It's… a poem," Waverly answered.

Sticking out his tongue, Champ blew raspberries; a contemptuous sound, to say the least. "There once was a girl from Nantucket…" he laughed, grabbing Waverly again from behind. "Huh?"

Waverly looked beyond annoyed, but before she could protest, the front door opened, and Wynonna appeared on the front porch. "Hands off my sister, Nine Seconds," she ordered, the screen door slamming as she moved across the front yard toward them.

"It was eight seconds," Champ corrected, referring to the length of a qualified bull ride in rodeo competition. "Loser," he muttered beneath his breath.

Waverly stifled a laugh. God, he was a clueless idiot sometimes. Thankfully, she was distracted from his idiocy by the sound of Wynonna's voice calling her name. She turned, slipping the note back into the envelope as she moved toward her.

"In your research, you come across any 'cattle rustlers'?" Wynonna was asking. "Tate family?"

Waverly thought for a moment. "Yeah, sure," she acknowledged, squinting against the bright morning sun as it reflected off of the snow. "I guess somewhere along the way they went legit because they eventually morphed into Tatenhill. As in Tatenhill Farms? Totally organic operation, grass-fed…" she was saying, when she was once again distracted by Champ, who had climbed back up into the bed of the pickup. And then she gasped, her eyes snapping back to Wynonna. "No! Neck Tat?" she queried in low tones, recalling their conversation back at Mama Olive's Diner the night prior.

"Think so," Wynonna answered, raising her eyebrows.

In the back of the pickup, Champ yanked the tarp free, catching Wynonna's attention. She gasped loudly, her eyes widening, as she shoved Waverly aside.

"Ow!" Waverly gasped when she hit the ground. "What the hell?" she muttered, as she attempted to right herself.

But Wynonna was completely oblivious to her, those blue eyes widening in excitement as they landed on the motorcycle that was tied down in the back of Champ's pickup. "Twelve Hundred Stage One Screaming Eagle!" she reverently exclaimed.

"Yeah, I hauled it for Waverly," Champ said casually.

Back on her feet, Waverly stated, "No, Curtis's will stipulated that the bike does go to Wynonna."

She looked rather pleased with her announcement, but Champ looked like he was suddenly constipated. "What?" he groused.

Wynonna's entire body vibrated with excitement, as a screaming, squealing laughter flowed from deep within. And then she practically growled, "Ohhhhh, I knew we were soulmates!" as she scrambled to get into the back of that pickup.

"Ohhh!" she exhaled again, grasping the bike, and mounting it. And then she actually purred, as she fondled it. "What am I gonna name this sexy beast?"

Amused, Waverly watched her sister fawning over and getting acquainted with the bike. It made her heart smile to see Wynonna so excited about something. Unfortunately, the moment was cut short by Doc's arrival, asking to bend Wynonna's ear—in private. And she once again found herself alone with Champ. And for the next two hours, she forced herself to endure his crass comments and repeated sexual advances, unwanted as they were. Why was she still with him again?

Why, indeed.


Friday, May 27, 2016… Shorty's Saloon—4:00 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Yes, why indeed? Waverly wondered as she set another two cases of bottled beer on the floor behind the bar. Sliding the cooler door open, she continued the process of stocking in preparation for the Friday night crowd. Why had she stayed with him for so long, when he was clearly no good for her? It was a question she'd pondered, time and again, not only in the weeks since she'd dumped him, but beforehand, as well. If she'd ended things with him the first time she'd felt inclined to, she would've been free to explore what she felt for Nicole from the start. Would that have scared her even more? She guessed she'd never know.

Rising from her stooped position, she scanned the room, doing a cursory check-in on the handful of afternoon patrons scattered about the saloon. There were a few locals grabbing a bite to eat at random tables. The York boys were shooting another game of pool, as per their usual on a Friday afternoon. There was a rousing game of darts in progress, and a couple of Shorty's old buddies were downing shots at the far end of the bar.

Other than the regulars, and the woman who had come in earlier, the saloon was empty. Not that it was unusual for the place to be so sparsely occupied at this hour of the day, especially on a weekday. Sheriff Nedley would be in soon for his afternoon coffee and conversation with the locals. Waverly could always count on seeing him on a weekday afternoon. It was his way of keeping his finger on the pulse of goings on in Purgatory. And business would start picking up around eight o'clock, steadily increasing as the evening wore on.

For now though, she couldn't help but notice the dark-haired woman with the accent, who sat at a table near the back of the saloon. She was being joined by another vaguely familiar-looking woman, presumably her wife. Waverly didn't have to presume for very long. The woman stood from her seat, smiling brightly as the other approached, a single red rose held between her fingertips. And when they were near enough, they embraced, the newcomer's hands sliding around her wife's slender waist with practiced ease. Pulling her close, she held her firmly, yet not possessively, as they shared a decidedly intimate kiss.

Intrigued, Waverly leaned forward against the bar and clasped her hands together, watching them. She found herself aching to be held and kissed by Nicole in that same way. The yearning was so sharp, so piercing, that she needed a distraction. But she couldn't tear herself away. Instead, she focused on details as she studied them. In sharp contrast to the designer jeans, stylish boots, and elegant sweater worn by her wife, the newcomer was dressed in sneakers, faded jeans and a light gray baseball jersey that read Chicago across the front. Her dark hair pulled back in a messy mass, she wore a matching Chicago Cubs ball cap on her head. And tucked beneath her left arm, she carried a holstered gun that looked much like the one Nicole carried when she was off duty. That was certainly curious.

Waverly watched with increasing interest then, focusing on the newcomer's movements. Handing the rose to her wife—who smiled and kissed her in return—the woman pressed her hand gently against the small of her wife's back, leading her back to her seat, offering a hand as she sat back down. Despite her resolve not to think about it, Waverly couldn't help but be reminded of the feeling of having Nicole's hand pressed against her that same way anytime Nicole was leading her somewhere, like out of the Pin Drop or when they were leaving Mama Olive's, or… the examples were countless, the memory so vivid that she could swear the felt the warmth of Nicole's hand on her right now. It made her belly do that somersault thing again.

Shaking it off, she forced her attention back to the women. While clearly relaxed, the woman moved with a measured, efficient precision that reminded her of Nicole. Of course it did. She had Nicole on the brain, and couldn't seem to shake her. At first, she wondered if she might just be losing her mind. But the more she watched, the more convinced she became that the woman was in some sort of law enforcement—obviously high-ranking. Not that it mattered. Except that she reminded Waverly so much of Nicole—the way she was dressed, the way she moved, the gun. Just thinking about it was driving her to distraction.

It was then that the first woman caught her gaze, signaling for the previously offered menus. Waverly smiled and nodded, indicating that she would be right with them. And then she moved swiftly to gather the menus and two sets of wrapped silverware, before making make her way across the bar.

"Hi! Welcome to Shorty's," Waverly greeted, flashing them a smile as she set the menus and silverware on the table in front of them. And then she tilted her head adorably. "I understand you're up for a bite to eat this afternoon."

"Afternoon," the newcomer said, glancing up at her with a smile and a nod. "And yes, we're definitely ready to eat. Heard this place has the best burgers south of the Big City."

"Indeed, we do," Waverly smiled, pleased that their reputation remained untarnished. "And our seasoned fries are absolutely to-die-for."

"I'll keep that in mind," the woman said. "Thanks."

"Bring you something to drink while you check over the menu?" Waverly offered.

"What do you have by way of imports?" the woman with the accent asked. "My wife is kind of a beer snob," she said in a tone that made it sound like a guilty pleasure.

The other woman looked suitably offended, but only for a moment. And then she grinned good-naturedly. "I admit it. It's true," she confessed, leaning back casually in her seat. "I love a good import."

Again, Waverly couldn't shake the sense of déjà-vu. But she brushed it aside, and chuckling at the woman's lighthearted candor, she nodded. "I can certainly appreciate that," she said, truly meaning it. And then she rattled off the available imported brews from memory.

"I'll have the Fürsten Trunk, thanks," the woman said upon hearing the German pilsner style brew being offered as an option. It was a longtime favorite.

"Bottle or mug?" Waverly asked.

"Bottle is fine," the woman answered.

"Sure thing," Waverly said. And then she glanced at the other woman. "Another for you?" she offered; the sense that she'd met them before growing stronger by the moment.

"Yes, please. And thank you."

Unable to brush the feeling aside anymore, Waverly glanced from one woman to the other, and back again. And then she sighed, her expression an amalgam of curiosity and confusion. "I'm sorry, but… have we met before?" she asked. "The two of you just seem so familiar to me, but I can't quite…"

Deep blue eyes sparkled beneath the brim of that ball cap as a bright smile emerged. "I wondered if you recognized us. We met on the hiking trail at Lake Louise a few weeks ago, but we never actually introduced ourselves." The woman held out a hand in greeting. "I'm Langston Malloy," she announced. "And this is my wife, Dani."

Accepting the proffered hand, Waverly offered that beguiling smile. "Waverly Earp," she greeted. "It's a pleasure to meet you, or… see you again, I guess is more appropriate."

"Likewise," Dani said with a warm smile.

Tilting her head, Waverly studied Dani for a moment. "You took our picture," she said, finally putting the last of the pieces together. They'd chatted with a handful of people on the trail that day, the majority of them being less than memorable; but she remembered the two of them vividly now.

"I did," Dani confirmed with a nod. "You and your partner make a lovely couple."

Momentarily thrown, Waverly's brow furrowed. And then her eyes widened. "Oh, you mean Nicole," she said, trying to brush off the comment. "She's not… I mean, we're not… Uh, we're just…" she stammered, her hands suddenly fidgeting.

"You're just what?" Langston smirked, humor dancing in her blue eyes. She was more amused than she should have been by the fact that Waverly looked so flustered; but she didn't care. "Friends?"

Waverly frowned. "Well, no. We're more than that," she admitted. "We're…" Suddenly at a loss for words, she shrugged. "I don't know what we are," she sighed. "And it's driving me crazy!"

Dani grinned as she glanced at her wife. "I know the feeling," she confessed, remembering Langston's hesitation during their younger years.

"Well," Langston said with a sense of contemplation in her tone. She'd been down this road before—with Dani. They'd known one another literally since birth—their mothers were best friends. And they'd somehow fumbled haphazardly into love as teenagers. Their story was long, and sometimes rough, but they were happier now than they'd ever been, and Langston enjoyed seeing others find that same kind of happiness whenever possible. "What would you like to be?"

"I…" Pausing, Waverly considered the question. Probably for the first time, she really considered it. And then she smiled. "I wanna be her everything," she whispered, more to herself than to the two of them, even as she wondered why in hell she was admitting such things to a couple of complete strangers. Odd for her, indeed.

"What's stopping you?" Dani asked. Given all that she and Langston had been through, she truly understood the fragility of life, and how it was just simply too short to waste time hesitating. As a result, she was known for her attempts to help people find happiness together. So much so that Langston often teased her, calling her a hopelessly romantic matchmaker. Dani couldn't argue.

What's stopping me? Waverly wondered. Nothing but my own uncertainty. She knew it was true. Especially after she finally found the guts to dump Champ on his sorry ass. A part of her wished that Nicole had been home that day, instead of being in Cambridge with her sisters. She was certain she would have run right to her, despite her earlier declaration to Champ that Nicole had nothing to do with her decision to end things with him. Conversely, a part of her was actually glad for the opposite; and that Nicole had pushed her away that night in front of the fire. She'd acted on impulse that night—something she never did—and she'd wavered back and forth about it ever since.

An awkward laugh tripped from her lips. "God, that was hokey," she declared, embarrassed by her own ridiculous comment.

"Nonsense," Dani said with the wave of a hand. "If that's how you feel, then own it."

"Exactly," Langston readily agreed. "And trust me, the way that girl was lookin' at you in those pictures, you already are her everything."

Blushing, Waverly averted that piercing blue gaze. "You really think so?" she asked shyly, thinking once again what an odd conversation this was to be having with complete strangers. And yet, she wasn't sorry.

"Do you have any of those pictures on your phone?" Langston asked. She was betting the girl had them all on there.

With a sheepish smile, Waverly nodded.

"Take a look at 'em, and tell me you don't see it too," Langston encouraged.

Dani grinned. "And you call me the matchmaker," she teased, bumping her shoulder against Langston's.

Casting an affectionate glance toward her wife, Langston said, "Some days, we're equally guilty."

Waverly didn't need to actually look at the pictures. She knew exactly what Langston saw in them, because she'd seen it too. Every time she looked at them; which was often. "I think I'm in love with her," she admitted, more to herself than to them. Where the hell did that come from? she wondered as she stood there, her thoughts scrambling for some sense of equilibrium.

Gleeful, Dani grinned. "And what are you gonna do about that?"

Suddenly remembering she wasn't alone, Waverly shook her head in disbelief. "Wow," she said a bit nervously. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with the two of you," she actually said out loud this time.

Tilting her head, Langston peered up at her from beneath the brim of her cap. "My apologies, if we're out of line," she said sincerely. "The two of you just seemed so happy together, we assumed…"

"Oh! No, of course not," Waverly was quick to assure. "You're not out of line at all. It's just that… I've never admitted it out loud. Least not to anyone but Nicole."

"Wait," Dani said, sounding surprised. "She knows how you feel?"

"More or less," Waverly shrugged. "I mean, she knows I'm interested. Not that I'm in love with her."

"So… what's holding you back?" Dani asked again.

"You know what, Dani?" Waverly sighed. Tilting her right hip, she braced her hand against it. "I've been asking myself that question for days. Weeks, actually," she quickly corrected. She wondered again why it was that she was telling these women her business. And then she realized it was because they felt safe—they didn't know her; didn't have any expectations of her. And they had no reason to judge her. "Ever since I broke things off with my high school boyfriend."

Dani hadn't been oblivious to Champ's presence earlier; she just simply chose not to mention it. Based upon Waverly's response to him, it seemed he was irrelevant to the situation. Instead, she reached out, giving Waverly's arm a gentle squeeze. "Maybe it's about time you figured out the answer."

Waverly offered a tremulous smile. "Yeah, I guess maybe it is." Again, she glanced from one to the other. "If you'll excuse me?" she requested. "I'll be back with your drinks in a moment. And I can take your order whenever you're ready."

"Sounds like a plan," Langston readily agreed. "Thanks."

Nodding, Waverly took her leave then, her thoughts wandering back to later that final day, when she'd finally ended things with Champ, once and for all. God, that day had been liberating! For so many different reasons. She hadn't broken things off with him because of Nicole. She was certain of that. But the decision definitely opened the door to possibility with her; and yet, when the opportunity came, instead of running toward it, once again, she'd run away. And now she was left questioning why.


Friday, May 6, 2016… Shorty's Saloon—1:00 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

"Your uncle's last wish was to go to the bar?" Champ sounded unimpressed. "What, did he want you to pour some out for his homies?"

Waverly rolled her eyes and shook her head, ignoring him to focus on the note. "Every day I sit, my beautiful mug in front…" she mumbled, reading the contents aloud.

Walking the floor, she contemplated both her uncle's words and her surroundings. "There is but one tune."

When she made her way around the bar to Curtis's chair, she pointed to it. "Here. Look, he sat here… every day," she said, tapping her neatly manicured fingernails on the plaque that was bolted to the back of his seat. And then she climbed into it.

"Yeah, but what about a 'beautiful mug'?" Champ contemplated aloud. "Old dude drank whiskey. From a glass," he said, chewing on a swizzle stick.

"Yeah…" she sighed quietly, her face holding a pensive expression. "Mug…" she whispered, her eyes moving around the room, taking it in from the vantage point of Curtis's seat. "Mug…" she repeated. And then her gaze fell on the mirror at the back side of the bar. It was quite a distance away, but it was directly in front of his chair. "My beautiful mug," she said, staring into her reflection. A satisfied smile teased at the corners of her mouth.

Leaving the chair, Waverly wandered the bar again, tapping the note as she contemplated out loud. "Tune… Tune… Did he have a favorite drinking song or something?"

"Shit, with his voice?" Champ responded, as he leaned over the pool table, cue in hand. "Like a bunch of drunk ferrets gangbanging." He made what were supposed to be ferret sounds, but came out more like monkeys, as he lined up his shot.

Waverly sighed. Champ was so useless sometimes. "You know, when I was little, he used to sing to me at bedtime." She chuckled at the memory. "He used to dance around like… like an idiot. Gus would be yelling at us to like, 'Shut the hell up'," she recalled, mimicking Gus's tone with fondness.

And then she moved back to Curtis's seat. Climbing back in, she began to sing: "All around the cobbler's bench, the monkey chased the weasel. The monkey thought it was all in fun…"

She paused when she noticed the open piano in the reflection behind her, and rising from the seat, she walked toward it, stealing a furtive glance toward Champ, who wasn't paying her any attention anyway. "All in fun…" she sang again. Reaching the piano, she played the final notes of the song, as she sang, "Pop goes the weasel…"

As soon as she hit the final note, there was a loud bang from beneath the keyboard. Waverly gasped, and looked beneath to find a trap door had popped open.

Immediately, Champ's attention returned to her. "If you aren't the smartest thing on two amazing legs," he declared as he rushed to her side.

"Oh, my…" Waverly intoned, bending down to pull the contents from Curtis's secret hiding place.

"Oh, my god, oh, my god," Champ rambled from behind her. "I hope it's a million dollars. We could open a little bar down in, um, Buenos Aires. Huh? I've always wanted that for us."

Uncovering the box's contents, Waverly jumped back. "Ew!" she exclaimed. And then she reached out again, pushing back the aging cloth. "Oh, my god," she breathed, lifting the contents from the box—it was a skull. "Oh, my god, it's a real dead guy."

The expression on her face was a mixture of curiosity and disgust as she studied it. There was another note, this one stuffed into the mouth of the skull. She pulled it out, carefully unfolding it. Champ leaned over her shoulder as she read: "Waverly, darling, you are now the Keeper of the Bones. Guard this and tell no one but the Blacksmith. You're the only one I can trust. Love, Uncle Curtis."

The idea of being trusted so completely filled Waverly with excitement and joy. She smiled at the skull, regarding it like a treasure.

Champ looked less than enthused. "I can't believe Wynonna got the Harley," he groused under his breath.

But Waverly barely even registered his presence, as she contemplated her relationship with her uncle. "He always said I was meant for bigger things," she recalled fondly, as she settled the skull back into the box. Lifting it, she moved away from the piano. "Paid for every one of my crazy online courses—you know, dead languages, offbeat history. God, it used to drive Gus nuts."

Setting the box with the skull on the table near the piano, she craned her neck toward Champ. "But he believed in me. I can't think of a better gift—The Keeper of the Bones."

Champ slid his arms around her, pressing into her from behind, as he leaned his chin on her shoulder. "You know, you'll always be the keeper of my boner," he murmured, grinning at her own wittiness as he nuzzled against her neck, as if that were some sort of life-altering romantic truth.

Waverly visibly cringed.

"Huh? Come on; let's shut that brain off a little while," Champ said insistently, as he pulled her closer against him. He was already hard—she could feel him when he pressed against her from behind, and it really pissed her off.

She tussled with him, shoving him away to gain her freedom. "No! I don't want my brain shut off!" she said in a tone that left no room for argument.

Clearly pissed, Champ stepped away. He moved toward the bar where he took a seat, adjusting himself to alleviate at least some of the discomfort. Tight jeans and a hard-on didn't exactly mesh.

Seething green eyes followed him the entire way. "Okay? I don't want to be a barmaid in Buenos Aires," she spat. "And it turns out that a boner and a pickup aren't the whole enchilada."

Champ looked decidedly annoyed by her comments, but he said nothing. He simply rubbed his eye and looked away.

"No," Waverly said, her tone as pensive as the expression on her face.

He released a long sigh.

"We're done," Waverly announced, the decision dawning on her like a revelation. The relief she felt in the mere utterance of those words were indescribable. It was so incredible she said them again. "Yeah. We're done, Champ," she repeated, this time with more confidence and a deep sense of liberation. And then she looked at him. "And I've got work to do," she announced, grasping the box and lifting it from the table. And not even registering that he looked completely dumbfounded, she left him there with nothing but his boner to keep him company.


Friday, May 27, 2016… Shorty's Saloon—4:15 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time

Waverly couldn't help but smile as she recalled the depth of Uncle Curtis's faith in her. It was unshakable. She was the only one he could trust to be the Keeper of the Bones. He'd said so himself in that note. Nicole believes in me with that same kinda blind faith, she realized. She tells me things that she doesn't tell anyone else. And she believes I'm capable of so much more than even I can fathom. She couldn't ask for anything more.

It was with those thoughts in mind that she returned to her customers—the intriguing women at the table in the back—with drinks in hand. "Here we are, Ladies," she said warmly, as she set the open bottle of Fürsten Trunk in front of Langston, and the mug of light draft on the thick cardboard coaster by Dani.

"Thanks so much."

"Thank you," they said in unison.

Smiling, Waverly nodded. "Have you had a chance to look over the menu?"

"Yeah," Langston said casually. "We're ready to order."

"Great!" Waverly declared. "What can I bring you?"

Waverly nodded and smiled, answering questions and memorizing their orders, not writing anything down. It was something she could do in her sleep, like most experienced servers. And when they were finished she said, "Excellent choices. I'll have your order up in about fifteen minutes. Can I bring you anything else while you wait?"

"No, we're good, thanks," Langston answered for both of them, as Dani nodded her agreement. She reached over, taking her wife's hand into her own. "We're just gonna enjoy one another's company while we wait."

Gazing adoringly into Langston's blue eyes, Dani smiled. "It's nice to have an evening out without the kids," she said, more to Langston than to Waverly. It was something that they very rarely did, and they were both thankful to Langston's aunt for offering to watch them for the evening.

"Oh, you have kids?" Waverly said, a sudden swell of happiness for them rising up within her. She couldn't explain why.

"Yeah," Langston said. "McKenna and Aydan." Her tone was an amalgam of sheer awe and deep pride as she said their names. No matter how much timed passed since the first time she'd held them, nothing ever diminished those feelings. Just thinking of them brought a fresh wave of gratitude and joy.

The tone of Langston's voice caught Waverly off-guard, making her miss what she never had—parents who treasured her. Gus and Uncle Curtis loved her, but even they never spoke of her with such deep devotion—at least not that she ever heard. She fought hard to stifle the tears that threatened to spring free and cascade down her cheeks. "Sounds like you love them very much," she said quietly. "They're lucky kids."

"We're the lucky ones," Dani declared, her own eyes prickling with tears. "They're the most amazing kids." They'd been through a lot to have them, and they viewed both McKenna and Aydan as precious gifts that they would never take for granted.

"I think every parent says that, Love," Langston commented, grinning at Dani. And then she glanced sheepishly at Waverly. "Sorry…"

Waverly laughed. "No, don't apologize," she said, brushing it aside. "You should bring them with you, if you come in for dinner again."

Langston looked surprised. "They can be in here?"

"Sure," Waverly answered with a shrug. "Shorty's is considered a pub, so they can be in here during the afternoon and dinner hour when most of our sales are from food."

"That's good to know," Langston said. "Thanks. We just might do that."

"All right, well, I should probably get your order in so you're not eating dinner at midnight," Waverly said jokingly; a means of excusing herself politely.

"Sounds good," Langston said. "Thanks, Waverly."

Waverly nodded then, and took her leave. She was grateful for whatever it was inside her that gave her the strength not to cry as she listened to the two of them talk about their children. Reaching the kitchen, she relayed the order to the cook, and then she ducked into the office on her way out. She needed a few minutes to compose herself before returning to the floor.

Instead, she found her thoughts focused on the two women again. They looked to be in their early forties, and she wondered how old their children were. Not that it mattered. She was just curious. She was curious about their story, their lives, and she wasn't exactly certain why. She wondered briefly if Nicole ever thought about having children. She certainly never had. Not with Champ anyway. The fact that she was even weighing the question as she contemplated a future with Nicole scared the shit out of her. But not enough to make her stop pondering it.

Thankfully, she was yanked from her thoughts by Nedley's anticipated arrival. He was never late for that afternoon cup of coffee. What surprised her was that Dolls was tagging along. He didn't look any too pleased to be there. But then, he never looked any too pleased to be anywhere. Except when Wynonna was around. Even when her sister was screwing up, Dolls couldn't hide the fact that he was attracted to her. She wondered briefly if he even realized how much it showed. And then she decided it didn't matter.

Gathering her wits, she plastered on her best welcoming smile as she moved across the bar toward Nedley. "The usual, Sheriff?" she asked politely. But she already knew the answer—at least to that. Now, if only she had answers to the questions that burned deep inside.


Friday, May 6, 2016… Shorty's Saloon—6:30 p.m. Mountain Daylight Time / Boston, Massachusetts—8:30 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Dinner with the Haught family was set in Harbourview, the upscale in-house restaurant at Harbour Bay, the luxury BGRC hotel where most of the family was staying, on the waters' edge, overlooking Boston Harbor. Reservations, set months in advance, had procured them not only the best suites in the hotel, but also the best table in the house, allowing for a picturesque view of the Boston landscape on the horizon—a stunning backdrop for the many boats gliding along in the harbor, the fading light of day shimmering against the rippling waters left in their wake.

The conversation around the table was polite, subdued—nothing like the animated conversations between the Haught girls earlier that afternoon—as they perused the menu, selecting their soups, salads, and entrees. They were part way through their main course when Nicole felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She reached for it without thinking, and found a text message from Waverly on her lock screen, saying: So… I kinda broke things off with Champ today.

Her heart lurched in her chest, and she could feel the reverberations in her stomach. A thousand questions blazed through her mind. From across the table, her grandfather leveled her with a glare, and she averted her gaze guiltily. She knew better than to touch her phone at his dinner table.

Drawing in a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. "Excuse me, please," she said politely, glancing around the table, making eye contact with everyone other than her grandfather. "I have to take this." Lifting her neatly folded cloth napkin from her lap, she set it beside her plate as she slid her chair back and rose from her seat.

"Everything all right, Sweetheart?" her mother asked, an expression of concern on her face.

"I'm not sure, Mom," Nicole said, brushing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric of her black linen trousers. "I'll be back just as quickly as possible."

"The only people who matter are those sitting at this table, Nicole," Nikolas Haught declared, his voice harsh and adamant. "Now put that insufferable gadget away, sit down, and finish your dinner."

"I respectfully disagree, Grandfather," Nicole said politely. "This is important. I'll finish my dinner when I get back." Her tone was firm, but she was shaking inside. She glanced around the table again, adding, "Please, don't hold your meal on my account." And with that, she turned, making her way toward the front of the restaurant, and out the door into the fresh air awaiting her on the pier.

The heels of her dress boots thumped against the cobblestone as she walked along the water's edge, her thoughts lost on how best to respond to Waverly's announcement. She didn't want to call her—Waverly had texted for a reason, she was certain. And she wanted to weigh her words carefully, so as not to come off as being insensitive. Was she excited to hear that Waverly was finally finished with Champ? Absolutely! But what if Waverly was hurting as a result? She would never want to compound those feelings. And she also didn't want to assume things she had no right assuming.

Finding a bench along the walkway, she lowered herself down onto it, crossing her long legs elegantly. She was the picture of grace and refinement, in a sleek black linen pant suit, a crisp white button down shirt beneath, her thick auburn locks swept up from her graceful neck, and clipped back in a relaxed, yet stylish up-do, thanks to Trinity's expertise. Trini was the girliest of the Haught girls, by far, and Nicole always relied upon her when it came to fashion, and how best to wear her hair when it was important.

From her vantage point, she could see the clock tower in McKinley Square. It was brightly illuminated, accenting the time; and it taunted her, the minutes ticking by, as she continued contemplating what she should say. Finally, she unlocked her phone and opened the message, for the first time noticing the random emoji of a ladybug that followed Waverly's message. It made her burst into laughter. What the fuck? she thought, shaking her head. It was so like Waverly to add some awkwardly random tag to something so deeply personal—a means of assuaging the discomfiture. She felt better then, less worried about the tone of her response, and she began to type, saying: Are you okay? Did something happen?

Right as rain, came the response, almost immediately. It was like Waverly was hanging on for a reaction. Nothing happened, really. Just more of the same. I should've done it a long time ago. Just didn't have the guts, I guess.

Nodding, Nicole smiled. And now? she texted, realizing too late that the question could have a double meaning. She quickly clarified, saying: I mean… What gave you the courage to do it now?

Waverly grinned as she read the follow up text. It was just like Nicole to clarify immediately to avoid a misunderstanding. I realized that I want and deserve so much more than anything he could ever give me.

You deserve the world, Waves, Nicole replied. And I wanna give it to you, she thought, but didn't text.

Waverly's heart skipped a beat. I miss you like crazy, but I hope you're having fun with your sisters.

I am, Nicole responded. I'm actually at dinner with them right now, so I've gotta go. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. And I miss you too. Like… super crazy.

Talk later? Waverly inquired. She couldn't wipe the goofy grin from her face.

Absolutely, Nicole assured. I'll call after the girls go to bed.

Can't wait, Waverly texted, her heart thrumming in her chest.

Counting the minutes, Nicole answered. And then she closed her text messaging app, and locked her phone. A few minutes later, she meticulously smoothed out those nonexistent wrinkles again, and reentered the restaurant, making her way toward the table where her family waited, her heart growing lighter and more hopeful with every single step.


Saturday, May 7, 2016… Cambridge, Massachusetts—2:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

"I really miss you, Cole," Hayley whispered as they lay together in the sofa bed in Trinity's living room later that night. Kyler had claimed dibs on sleeping in Trinity's room with her the moment she walked through the door that morning, leaving the sofa bed for the eldest and youngest of the Haught sisters. "When are you comin' home for good?"

Nicole's heart practically broke from the sadness in her baby sister's voice. She remained silent for several moments, collecting her thoughts and weighing her words carefully. "Dallas isn't home for me anymore, Hayles," she said gently. "I can't go back to that. Not after what happened."

"I know you don't wanna go back to the Dallas P.D., but… couldn't you be a deputy in some Podunk town in South Texas or somethin'?" Hayley asked. "Someplace closer to home?"

"Not with Grandfather's reach," Nicole answered forthrightly. "He's got cronies all over the state, and he'd never let it happen. You know he hates me bein' a cop."

"Sometimes I really hate him," Hayley scowled.

"Well, don't waste your time or energy on that," Nicole cautioned. "The only person you'll end up hurtin' is you."

Hayley knew Nicole was right. But right now, she just needed to be angry with him. His relentless need for control had cost her something precious—time with the person she loved most in the world. "Why'd you have to go all the way to Canada?" she groused.

"It just felt… right," Nicole answered. "And I'm glad I did. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have met Waverly."

Hayley snuggled closer to her big sister, laying her head against Nicole's shoulder. "You really want a future with her, don't you?"

Here in this safe space, with only Hayley to hear, Nicole let her guard down completely. "I think so," she answered quietly. "Someday. If she'll have me."

"Does she know?" Hayley asked.

The tone of her voice told Nicole that Hayley wasn't referring to Nicole's thoughts about a future, but to her past and the incident that prompted her move to Canada. She shook her head. "I haven't told her yet," she said. "I will though. There's no way I could keep something like that from her. Especially not if we're gonna be together."

"You should tell her soon," Hayley said with warning in her tone. "Before someone else does."

"Well, my boss Nedley is the only one who knows," Nicole reported. "And he's not sayin' a word. He's a fair man—a bit gruff, but fair. I started clean there, and so far, everything's goin' great. The town, the people, they're fantastic. For the most part, anyway. And Waverly's family is startin' to feel like me own."

"Can't say it makes me happy to hear we're bein' replaced," Hayley pouted. "But I'm happy you're fittin' in."

Tilting her head, Nicole brushed a kiss against Hayley's temple. "Y'all aren't bein' replaced, Hayles," she said reassuringly. "I'm just addin' to my family. Just like Kyler did when she started datin' Kendalyn. You'll understand someday, when you meet the right person."

"Person?" Hayley said quizzically. Nicole could actually hear the arched eyebrow in her tone. "You tryin' to tell me you think I might play for your team?"

Her tone was light, teasing, and Nicole grinned in response. "No, I'm tryin' to tell you that it wouldn't matter to me either way. I make no assumptions."

"I love you, Cole," Hayley whispered on a contented sigh. Nicole was always accepting. No matter what ridiculous thing Hayley had said or done. It was comforting to know that would never change.

"Love you too, Hayles," Nicole replied. "Now go to sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day."

Closing her eyes, Hayley nodded against Nicole's arm. And within a few minutes, Nicole noted the slow, steady breathing that indicated she was asleep. She laid there with her for several minutes, savoring the moment the way she had when Hayley would sneak into her bed and curl up next to her at night when she was just a little girl. And finally, she slipped from the bed, careful not to wake her, and grabbed her phone from the end table. Sliding her feet into her sneakers, she quietly unlocked the door, slipping outside, and closing it carefully behind her.


Saturday, May 7, 2016… Nicole's Apartment—12:15 a.m. Mountain Daylight Time / Cambridge, Massachusetts—2:15 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time

Nicole took a seat on the bench just outside the main door into Trinity's apartment building, and pulled her phone from the pocket of the sweats she'd worn to bed. She opened the Skype app, figuring free was better than the alternative, and quickly signed into her account. A moment later, she heard the familiar tune indicating the call was ringing on Waverly's end.

When Waverly answered, her smile was as bright as the morning sun. It was obvious from the background that she was at Nicole's apartment, and that simple fact made Nicole feel things she'd never even contemplated. Beautiful, wonderful things. "You're at my place," she said, the sheer joy of it bubbling up inside her. It was ridiculous, she knew, but she couldn't help the way she felt.

"Just checking on Stormy before I head home," Waverly reported. She'd gone to Nicole's as soon as she finished her shift at Shorty's.

"You're welcome to just stay, if that'd make it easier for you in the morning," Nicole offered. The idea of Waverly waking up there, even without her, was… comforting, in a way she'd never known. "Sheets on my bed are clean."

"I just might do that," Waverly said. "Thanks."

"No problem," Nicole replied.

"It's late for you there," Waverly pointed out, surprised by the hour of the call. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Nah, I'm still on your time," Nicole replied. "Not the least bit tired."

"We were up before dawn this morning," Waverly reminded. "How could you not be?"

"I took a nap on the plane," Nicole confessed with a sheepish grin. "What about you? Is it too late for you?"

"Never," Waverly assured. Tucking her feet up beneath her in the chair, she idle ran her fingers through Stormy's fur. "I'd rather talk to you than sleep any day."

Flattered, Nicole blushed. "You're adorable," she said. "And far too sweet to me."

Waverly smiled. "I could accuse you of the same."

"So how are you doin'?" Nicole asked.

Waverly knew she was referring to the breakup. She smiled. "I couldn't be better," she declared.

"I'm glad," Nicole said sweetly. "I'm sorry I couldn't text more this evening. We were at dinner with my family. Grandfather doesn't tolerate cell phones at the dinner table."

"He's a real charmer, isn't he?" Waverly said wittily.

"You nailed it," Nicole laughed.

They fell quiet for several moments, and Waverly chewed her bottom lip nervously, trying to decide how much was too much to say. "So, uh… I guess we have some things to talk about when you get home, huh?" she finally ventured.

Nicole arched an eyebrow. "Do we?" she queried, seeking Waverly's full disclosure. She didn't want to assume.

"Yeah," Waverly nodded, feeling emboldened. "Nicole, I…"

"Waves, wait…" Nicole said on a cautionary tone.

"Nicole, please don't do this again," Waverly implored, thinking this might be a repeat of Nicole's rebuff the night of the barbeque and bonfire. "I couldn't take it if you…"

"No, Waves," Nicole was quick to respond. "Please, just… hear me out, okay?"

Waverly nodded. "Okay."

Drawing in a deep breath, Nicole slowly released it. "I just… I wanna have this conversation with you. I really do."

"But?" Waverly sounded skeptical.

"But… I wanna be with you, be able to touch you, and hold you…" And kiss you, Nicole thought, but didn't voice in the midst of speaking, "when we do," she said softly. "I can't bear the thought of knowing we're finally there, and not being able to touch you for a whole week."

Waverly felt the heat of tears stinging her eyes. "Yeah," she breathed, nodding her agreement. "I want that too."

"Okay, good," Nicole sighed, feeling slightly relieved. Knowing that Waverly agreed did nothing to quash the urgent need to reach through the screen and touch her right that moment. She hated that it would be more than a week before she could make that happen. But it also gave her a week to work up to telling Waverly the truth about her past.

She fell quiet then, knowing that she needed to set the stage now, so that she wouldn't lose her nerve when the time came.

"What is it, Nicole?" Waverly asked. She could tell by the silence, the expression on Nicole's face, that something had shifted. And it was serious.

"So… there are things I need to tell you, as well," Nicole admitted. "Things about my past."

Waverly just gave her that look. The one with the eyebrow arched. "You're not married, are you?" she asked, eyes twinkling. "You don't have a wife tucked away in the hills somewhere?"

Nicole laughed, heartily. "Christ, no," she answered, the weight of the truth feeling a bit lighter in the moment. It was just like Waverly to do that for her.

"Then whatever it is, we'll be okay," Waverly said with certainty. "Nothing about your past could ever change what I feel for you, Nicole." I just hope you feel the same way, when you finally learn the truth about my family history.

The admission of feelings from Waverly made Nicole's heart swell in her chest. It gave her a sense of hopefulness she hadn't felt in a really long time. A faint smile teased at her mouth, and she nodded, even as she prayed with everything in her that it was true. "Feeling's mutual," she declared. And then she released a long, slow breath. "So we'll talk. Every day. But we won't talk about either of those things."

"Agreed," Waverly said resolutely.

"And we'll talk it all out when I get home," Nicole suggested. "Get everything out on the table."

"Absolutely everything," Waverly agreed.

"I can't wait to see you again," Nicole murmured, her voice a soft caress that Waverly could feel all over her body. Her heart was so full she could hardly contain it.

"We might not be going fishing, after all, Officer Haught," Waverly intoned, a mischievous grin teasing at the corners of her mouth.

Nicole grinned, that dimple coming out in full force. "I could definitely live with that."


TBC in Chapter 9—What's Past is Prologue…