Waverly had found herself prouder of her girlfriend than any other single person in her life. She admired the grace the redhead had shown in her handling of her interaction with upper management. Seeing Nicole's enraged state at the woman, and furthermore at Dolls for trying to sweep it under the rug for the sake of appearances, Waverly knew that she'd have to be the calming presence. She'd been able to talk Nicole down and convince her to play the so called "long game" that Nedley had mentioned, and let her game do the talking.
She knew it was a little hypocritical to tell Nicole to just essentially let it slide, considering that if she'd been in those shoes, she probably would've went on some social justice campaign to expose Bunny and the management for discrimination. In the long run, however, she knew that both of them knew that it wouldn't cause anything but a distraction and hurt the team.
She was proud of the way Nicole held her head high and dodged the nosy questions from reporters trying to figure out some juicy gossip from within the team, handling mostly everything that came her way with maturity and professionalism. (When Waverly told her how proud she was of her maturity, Nicole shrugged and told her she liked the way it infuriated Bunny). The only time she'd seen Nicole get negative was when she'd mentioned the way Shae looked at her angrily, blaming her for their loss against Bathurst. Waverly wondered if Shae had been let in on why Nicole was benched, and whether or not knowing the truth would've changed her attitude. Her girlfriend was quick to assure her that knowing the truth would've only made Shae madder, before going into details of their complicated relationship.
In her first game back from benching, Nicole had gone out and scored two goals, including the game winner in a 2-1 win against the Rangers, much to the chagrin of the captain (who hadn't put up a single point for then the fourth game in a row). But Waverly's pride came to grow even further just two games later when Nicole set up Shae for a goal, simultaneously scoring her 72nd point and breaking the rookie points record that had been standing for over a decade.
She'd settled on the fact that there was never going to be a ceiling for how proud she could be of Nicole when Nicole scored her 33rd goal of the season, breaking the rookie record set by Shae just five years ago. Her girlfriend had been humble in the interviews she was bombarded with following the achievement, but had allowed Wynonna to openly make a big deal of it when their small friend group had gone out to Shorty's after the game to celebrate.
But beyond the game and the success, Waverly found herself proudest to call the redhead her girlfriend not because she was Nicole Haught, hockey phenom, but because she was simply Nicole. It was Nicole outside of the hockey environment that had quickly become her favorite version of the woman. Soft and tender and caring, dorky at times and a little too stubborn for her own good when it came to bickering with Wynonna. A girl who'd been strong-willed, and though she projected all the confidence in the world to the public, showed a vulnerability to Waverly that made her so much more appealing. She loved her mind and the way she was able to shut off hockey when it was their time to just be together, even though that time had been scant whilst the season was in full swing.
(Waverly had to chastise Wynonna for teasing Nicole, calling her "whipped", but did have to admit that her sister did have a point. She recalls fondly the night she just couldn't get to sleep, the homestead being especially cold and her four blankets just not cutting it. She hadn't meant to do anything but complain to Nicole, but the redhead showed up at her door, with an extra blanket in hand and wound up spending the night being her bonus blanket).
Presently, Waverly found herself enamored by the way Nicole's eyebrows knitted together in concentration, eyes darting between a spreadsheet and the TV in the film room. The Devils had finished their regular season yesterday, setting a league record in points with a 61-17-4 final record for 126 total points, and were awaiting finals scores for the last remaining seeds in the playoffs. They would be the first seed, but there was a log jam between four or five teams that were all playing today that could determine the matchups.
The small gathering they'd planned to watch the games and the score reports had grown from just her, Nicole and Wynonna to now include Powers and Finning (who, coming to think of it, Waverly had never seen separated from each other), Doc (who'd become increasingly attached to Wynonna's hip after the details of their involvement had become official in Toronto), Rosita and Kate (who'd been in the building anyway), Robin (who'd felt bad for intruding and brought along pizza) and Jeremy (who'd framed it as research into his playoff piece for the Devils, but Waverly really knew it was because Robin was there).
The spreadsheets had been Waverly's idea. She'd made them to keep track of what scenarios of scores would generate what playoff matchups. Wynonna had rolled her eyes and called her a nerd, but when Doc and the others took particular interest into seeing who the Devils could possibly be playing, she was quick to change her tune.
"Okay hold on hold on," Powers interjected into the room, holding her phone to read a new score alert. The rest of the occupants quieted down, turning attention to the winger. "Kelowna just scored to tie it up in Regina."
"So where does that leave us now?" Rosita asked, chewing on the end of a pencil.
"If these scores hold, and Kelowna wins, then we get them, and Edmonton plays Moose Jaw…I think? Right?" Finning asked, squinting at the sheet in front of her.
"No. No." Nicole interjected. "If Kelowna wins, then we'll get them but Edmonton would play Calgary, unless they…" she trailed off, getting a new notification, "Wait, Calgary just scored, which…" she paused to scan through her own sheet, "…changes nothing."
"Who do we wanna play?" Robin asked.
The teams up in the air currently were Prince Albert, Moose Jaw, Brandon, Kelowna and Calgary, and the Devils had strong opinions and cases for and against matching up against each.
"Ideally, Kelowna, but Moose Jaw and Prince Albert would need to lose for that to happen." Powers started, before going into specifics of regular season matchups and advantages that the Devils held.
"See, I wouldn't mind playing PA." Nicole said.
"Yeah, that's just because you have that goalie's number, Red." Finning quipped. "The rest of us couldn't do shit against them."
Nicole just shrugged her shoulders, and the group turned their attention back to the TV. The final scores had started to roll in, and the only game left up in the air was the Moose Jaw-Brandon game, which had gone to overtime.
"Okay, Kelowna's out because of their loss to the Royals. Calgary and Prince Albert both won their games, so it's down to the winner of this one." Rosita said after double checking the spreadsheet.
"We're gonna end up playing whoever loses the Bobcats game." Waverly stated matter-of-factly, knowing that the two teams in question had come in tied at 97 points, and the winner in OT would earn themselves the point that put them in the seed higher than the other.
"So we get stuck with Satan himself, or the Swamp Witch?" Said Kate in reference to the other teams' coaches.
"It would appear that way, yes." Waverly registered Doc's voice over the chorus of shouts and gasps from the group watching the game on the television. And then, almost immediately, the game-winning goal was scored and the field was set.
"Now with the final game of the regular season wrapped up, let's take a look at the final standings," Came the voice of the CEWHL Network analyst, showing a graphic on the screen, starting with the Eastern Conference divisions:
Maritime Division
St. John's Ice Dogs (47-29-6, 100 PTS)
Brampton Thunder (47-30-5, 99 PTS)
Bathurst Power (45-28-9, 99 PTS)
Charlottetown Storm (43-32-7, 93 PTS)
Halifax Warriors (36-64-9, 84 PTS)
Sydney Challengers (37-36-9, 83 PTS)
Ontario/Quebec Division
Trois-Rivieres Navagatrices (50-25-7, 107 PTS)
Sherbrooke Black Widows (46-27-9,101 PTS)
Moncton Cougars (39-35-8, 86 PTS)
Stratford Swans (35-36-11,81 PTS)
Toronto Triumph (35-37-10, 80 PTS)
Mississauga Mayhem (35-37-9, 79 PTS)
Quebec Capitales (31-42-9, 71 PTS)
"Charlottetown has now made the playoffs for the first time in six years, while Toronto has missed the playoffs for the first time in its history. Let's take a look at the Eastern Conference first round matchups: Number one seeded Trois-Rivieres will take on Summerside; Sherbrooke is poised to battle with the seventh seeded Cougars; we can surely expect a good one between St. John's and Charlottetown; and rounding out the field in the 4v5 matchup are Brampton and Bathurst."
The others sat impatiently around (and on) the table in the room, not at all interested in Eastern Conference standings and matchups. They'd all known what the Western Conference matchups were, but seeing it on TV was a confirmation that everyone had wanted to see.
"Moving forward in our historic season, let's take a look at what we're dealing with in the West."
He again put up the graphic for the division standings in the Western Conference:
Manitoba/Saskatchewan Division
Peg City Pirates (48-26-8, 104 PTS)
Steinbach Huskies (48-27-7, 103 PTS)
Prince Albert Rangers (46-28-8, 100 PTS)
Moose Jaw Maroons (44-26-12, 100 PTS)
Brandon Bobcats (47-31-4, 98 PTS)
Regina Royals (37-37-8, 82 PTS)
Saskatoon Rush (32-36-14, 78 PTS)
BC/Alberta Division
Purgatory Blue Devils (61-17-4, 126 PTS)
Edmonton Drillers (49-24-9, 107 PTS)
Calgary Outlaws (46-29-7, 99 PTS)
Kelowna Grizzlies (44-30-8, 96 PTS)
Victoria Tigers (36-32-14, 86 PTS)
Red Deer Rampage (32-40-10, 74 PTS)
Lethbridge Eagles (29-47-6, 64 PTS)
"Purgatory completes a miraculous, albeit pretty much impossible, turnaround going from record worst to record first in just a single season." The room erupted in whoops and hollers, applauding the team on a season well played, Powers and Finning taking bows at the front of the room. "A powerhouse Western Conference has finished in a tight race, but we now have the official matchups: those surging Blue Devils hold down home ice advantage for their whole playoff run but will take on the always tough Brandon Bobcats; we'll have the battle of Alberta reignited as number two Edmonton will take on number seven Calgary; Winnipeg will have playoff hockey for the eighth consecutive season, as the Pirates take on sixth-ranked Moose Jaw; and the final matchup in the West belongs to number four Steinbach and number five Prince Albert."
"Swamp Witch it is then." Kate chuckled, the rest of the room acknowledging the fact.
Margo Jean Clanton was as savage and conniving as coaches came. Since taking the helm, the Bobcats had never failed to win their first round series, despite never being favored to win. They'd pulled out so many first-round upsets that people around the league had suspected some sort of witchcraft or supernatural powers had to be at work. No one can exactly pinpoint when they started calling the coach the Swamp Witch, but it had stuck, and it was fitting. An ever-unpleasant woman, her teams played with the same nastiness that she exuded, and their games were never pretty, but they'd always gotten the job done somehow.
"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us then." Nicole said, and Waverly couldn't help but smile at the fact that she was about to say just that.
Game 1: Wednesday, April 10—Brandon Purgatory
Waverly found herself out of her normal position before games—down in the team tunnel instead of in between the benches. Nedley had been late in getting her the lineup card for the Devils, and she'd needed to track the coach down to get it before the game started. In her search, she'd found herself accidentally walking into a group of the Devils warming up by playing with a soccer ball, apologizing sheepishly as she had caused them to drop the ball.
She'd found it a strange place, the players tunnel, though she guessed all the strange pre-game superstitions and routines were working if it had gotten the team to the playoffs. She passed a door that had done nothing to conceal the sounds of an AC/DC song blaring in the room behind it, and then passed the locker room door to hear off-key singing (screaming) to a Rihanna song that was most likely Carlson and Harris based on what Nicole had told her about the team. She passed the training room door to see a few players getting taped and wrapped by the training staff before reaching a bit of a clearing to see Shae working on stickhandling with a golf ball and Miller throwing a couple of rubber balls against the wall for hand-eye coordination.
Waverly had walked by one more doorway, still not finding Nedley, but doubled back when she realized she'd seen a flash of red hair. Nicole had had on a pair of headphones, playing the pregame playlist that Waverly still hadn't found herself privy to. (Nicole had sworn that it was just standard, "totally hardcore" songs that got her game ready, but Finning had let it slip that there were more than a couple Fifth Harmony and One Direction songs on the list).
Nicole appeared to be oblivious to Waverly's presence, judging by the way that she continued with her laser focused work, taking a torch to the blade of her stick, her tongue poking ever so slightly out of the corner of her mouth in her concentration. Waverly was sure she was the definition of heart eyes at the moment taking in the sight of her girlfriend, but couldn't bring herself to see that as a bad thing.
"I can see why they call you Red Hot now," she quipped, knocking on the door in an attempt to get Nicole's attention.
She seemed to have noticed, snapping her head up to see the intruder. Waverly could've melted at the sight of the smile that spread across Nicole's face as she realized who was there. She extinguished the torch and pulled the headphones down to hang around her neck.
"Hey cutie, what're you doing down here?"
"Looking for Nedley. I need the roster card." She explained. "But I seem to have stumbled into some sort of parallel universe—you know it never occurred to me that I've never seen what goes on behind the scenes before games."
"Yeah, a lot going on down here," Nicole said with a soft chuckle. "If you're looking for Sheriff, he's down in the office."
Waverly nodded, but wanted to enjoy Nicole's company just a little longer, especially as the taller girl had closed the gap between them to steal a quick peck on the lips.
"Ready for the game? Excited?"
"More like terrified."
"Breaking News," she started dramatically, "Hot shot Nicole Haught gets nervous just like rest of us."
"Guilty." She said as she held her hands up.
"Seriously though, pregame jitters or something more?" Waverly asked with sincerity.
"It's just a lot of pressure," she admitted with a hint of a sigh. "This is the first time most of us are playing in a playoff game, and we've got a lot of expectations. Not to mention Bunny's still looking for any reason to ship me out of here and I can tell it's rubbing Shae the wrong way that I ended up with more points than her this season."
"Well, that's ridiculous," Waverly dismissed, "especially considering she scored forty-three goals this year, and she's not too keen on assists anyway."
Waverly had known the stats well, considering she'd been in charge of marking most of them down. When the league leaders had officially come out, both Shae and Nicole had finished in the top five, but Nicole had finished slightly higher on the strength of her 36 goals and 55 assists compared to Shae's 43 and 43 performance.
"I know that, but you know it's more too." Nicole said with a half-pout. Waverly still didn't quite understand Shae's petty vendetta, but chose to ignore it as long as her girlfriend didn't seem to be too upset by it.
"Anyway, I'm sure you'll be fine once you get out there and get a couple shifts out of the way."
"Mhm, I'm sure I will, but…" Nicole trailed off, getting a mischievous look in her eye, "maybe you could leave me with a little good luck charm before you go find Nedley?"
Who was Waverly to deny Nicole anything really? She closed the gap between them yet again, capturing her girlfriend's lips eagerly fulfilling the hockey player's request.
"Okay, not that I don't love that," Nicole said with a soft squeeze of Waverly's ass, "but now I gotta finish getting ready, and you gotta track down the Sherriff."
Waverly grumbled at the sound of the radio commentary playing next to her on the scorekeeper's bench. Because it was the playoffs, both teams had the right to their own individual scorekeepers at the games. Brandon's scorekeeper was a greased-up muscle-head named Randy who unfortunately reminded her way too much of Champ for her liking.
Randy had decided it best to listen to Country Joe and Wingnut's play-by-play (of the game he was currently at, mind you) on some Manitoba radio station. There was nothing more that she despised in the moment than listening to radio DJs talk smack about how badly the Devils had been playing.
Waiting for the third period to start, the Devils were in danger of being run out of their own building, being down 4-0, though it probably should've been more. They'd been outhustled and heavily out hit; what the Bobcats lacked in skill and finesse (which was a lot), they made up for in brute force.
"…And Joe, what about that Jolene DiMoni? She's been everywhere tonight, hasn't she?"
"She's been everything the Cats could've asked for and then some. Skating: check; physicality: check; intimidation factor: check, check and check."
Waverly made a conscious effort to tune out the commentary as the teams retook the ice, the Devils looking shellshocked. Nedley no doubt had torn into them in the intermission. He'd benched the top line to start the period, opting to send out the third liners who had been playing marginally better than the other three lines the Devils had thrown out there.
Nicole's line didn't hit the ice until a few minutes later, and it looked like they'd had a very clear gameplan, one that hadn't really been their brand all season. Waverly watched Shae take a girl to the boards and pin her there in a scrum rather than peel off for a breakout pass, and then watched Jenna give more than a little shove to a player hot on her tail once Carlson had dumped the puck into the attacking zone. It was clear that be more physical was the message in the locker room from Nedley, and that included everyone.
Nicole, apparently feeling left out, had a girl lined up for a big hit along the boards and…
"Ooh, swing and a miss for Haught," the voice Waverly recognized as Wingnut snickered as she cringed, watching Nicole slam herself into the boards, missing the hit completely as the Bobcats' player moved out of the way at the last second.
(Within seconds she'd gotten a text message from her sister.
Wynonna: your girlfriend's a fucking idiot
Wynonna: she's been hit so many times you'd think she'd know a thing or two about actually hitting someone).
Waverly had to give props to her girlfriend for trying, but she did look a little silly out there, now having to pick herself up from the ice and skate to the bench for a line change.
The virtual silence in the arena that came with the Devils performing so poorly made the third period practically drag on. The Bobcats looked content to just defend their lead, not really putting any pressure on goal, playing the body anytime they saw the opportunity. Waverly knew Doc, Rosita and Kate had a long night ahead with all of the Devils most definitely needing ice baths after this game.
During a break in play, Waverly saw Nedley lean over Nicole's shoulder, giving her some sort of instructions before sending the first line onto the ice. Watching Nicole step up to the faceoff dot, Waverly saw her girlfriend have her stick not so subtly slashed by the opposing center followed by a uncharacteristically heated encounter between the two. The referee ejected the Bobcats' player from the draw, a winger taking her place, but she and Nicole were still having words.
Waverly hadn't really seen Nicole visibly agitated on the ice, knowing that she'd rather let her game do the talking. However, in this moment, it looked like Nicole could've killed that centerman.
Nicole won the faceoff and the Devils moved the puck through the neutral zone to attack, the clock now showing just under five minutes remaining. Waverly could sense trouble brewing when the center who Nicole had been barking at sought her out along the boards, taking a whack at her shinnies and tripping her up when she tried to skate away.
The referee's arm shot in the air signaling a delayed penalty for tripping, but as Nicole got to her feet, she threw down her gloves, the offending Bobcats player doing the same. Nicole was the first to engage the fight, tugging on her opponent's jersey, throwing the first punch and then another. As the two danced, Waverly caught sight of the Bobcats' player's jersey—a number 64 sweater with the name DiMoni stitched onto the back. She had looked a little caught off guard by the quick succession of punches, but quickly regained her bearings, throwing a big right hook of her own that caught Nicole square in the face.
Waverly probably should've been cringing, or worrying about Nicole's safety, but there was something so satisfying and just inappropriately sexy about the look of primal rage on her girlfriend's face as she landed one haymaker and then another. She'd made quick work of the fight, the last punch—a uppercut right to the jaw, sending her opponent to the ice.
Wow, that was hot, was all Waverly could think as she watched Nicole standing over the Bobcats player with a smug look on her face just before the referees escorted her to the penalty box, Nedley giving her a thumbs up from the bench.
Waverly struggled to bring herself to concentrate after all of that, because nothing, not even Shae scoring on the Power Play with three and a half minutes left to make it a little more respectable, would be more intriguing or worth thinking of than how hot Nicole was throwing those hands around.
Game 2: Friday, April 12—Brandon Purgatory (BDN leads series 1-0)
After the drubbing on Wednesday night, the Devils looked much better going into Game 2. But that didn't quite mean they'd figured everything out, especially scoring. The crowd had gotten restless waiting for a deciding goal nearing the end of the first overtime period tied at 1-1, so Waverly wasn't sure what you could call them as they were nearly done with a third one.
It hadn't been for lack of trying, on either end, considering there'd been just about 90 shots on goal between the two teams. The marathon game was nearing a league record, and easily turning into a playoff classic. The game had gotten less physical as it had gone on, the players visibly showing their fatigue from playing nearly an extra sixty minutes.
The crowd got to its feet with seconds left, Hansen missing ending the game for the Devils by literal centimeters as the puck ricocheted off of the post and into the corner, the horn blaring to end the third overtime a moment later.
Waverly stood up as the teams vacated the ice, needing to stretch her legs and in an attempt to keep herself awake. Game days in general were long ones filled with responsibilities; playoff games were even longer with even more responsibilities, but today was outside the realm of anything Waverly had experienced in her life.
She exited the scorekeeper's bench to fill her water bottle, pushing her way through fans who were far too drunk (the overtime giving them more time for more beers) and definitely should've been cut off two overtimes ago. She knew that if the Devils couldn't manage to win this game that there was a massive chance of a full-blown riot in the building judging by the sheer volume of alcohol consumed tonight.
She returned to her seat to find Randy asleep at the table, snoring with his mouth open. Waverly rolled her eyes at the unprofessionalism. She gently nudged him on the shoulder to try to wake him up, which did work, but resulted in him jerking awake and swinging his arm across the table, spilling his giant sugary soda all over the scorer's table.
Waverly sprung into action to try to save the scoresheets, but wasn't quick enough and the papers were unsalvageable. She groaned angrily, knowing she'd have to go get more and transfer the stats onto a clean sheet.
"Hey! What the hell was that for?" Randy yelled, still disoriented from his brief nap, but then realized the mess on the table. "Woah. That's not good."
"Yeah, no shit Randy." She snipped.
"No need to get all bitchy." He said before mumbling under his breath, "This is why they shouldn't let women in sports."
Waverly wasn't sure whether to be angry or to laugh. He did realize that this was a whole ass women's professional league, right?
Normally, she would've dwelt on that fact, maybe even just laugh dryly, and move on, but with tonight going the way it was, she let anger win out.
"Listen up, Randy. I know you don't know me, but most of the people around her know me as the Nicest Person in Purgatory. Like legitimately, there was a vote, I have a sash." She said sternly, but not over-aggressive. "But I won't hesitate to kick your ass if you try to make another comment like that in front of me again. Now, I'm gonna go get more scoresheets and redo the stats and you're gonna clean this mess up, understood?"
"Y-yes ma'am."
The fourth overtime went on without incident, the players truly showing fatigue in their play, and especially in their decision making. It was a rare sight in this period to see three or four consecutive passes connect without being tipped or turned over completely. Players were slow to get up from hits, but quick to get to the bench, shifts usually consisting of a trip up the ice, back down and then straight off.
The fans weren't fairing any better, now waiting for the game's eighth total period to start. As the clock flipped over past midnight, the fans who'd remained (which was surprisingly most of them), were just about dead on their feet, wishing and hoping for something, anything to happen. At this point everyone was just hoping somebody would score, and it didn't quite matter who did.
Waverly had caught herself on re-transcribing the multitude of stats from the game, thankful that the soda hadn't destroyed everything. She was sure that as tired as she was, it was nothing compared to the players on the ice, doing the work.
Waverly caught a glimpse of Nicole at the bench just as the period was starting, seeing the absolute exhaustion painted on her face (a dopey grin graced her lips as she caught Waverly staring at her). Looking around at the rest of the Devils and over to the Bobcats' bench, none of them looked much better. Forget wanting it more, that had passed three overtimes ago, this game was going to come down to whatever team was the most conditioned and could physically stay moving for the longest amount of time.
The Devils' top line took the ice to start OT number five. If this period lasted longer than five minutes, it would become the longest game in league history.
The Bobcats center lined up across from Nicole on the faceoff wore a jersey with the last name Clanton on it. Beyond that DiMoni bitch from game one, Waverly had really started to hate this Clanton, Cleo who most definitely had to be the coach's daughter. The two of them had seemed to follow Nicole around the ice, practically stalking and harassing her over the last two games. Waverly got Jolene's problem, feeling slighted for getting her shit rocked in the fight at the end of game one, but she couldn't quite understand Cleo's deal.
Cleo won the puck back pretty easily and started their attack into the offensive zone. The Bobcats moved the puck around for a moment, but took the first available shot, a long slapshot from the blue line that Miller saw the whole way. Piece of cake, Waverly thought to herself as the netminder froze the puck for fresh legs to come on.
The fans, if possible, grew more restless seeing shots that never had any real chance of going in. Waverly knew that any shot was a good one at this point, especially with tired goalies, but even she had to admit it was a little more than boring to see shots going straight into the chest or trapper every single time.
The record for the longest game in league history came, and then five more minutes passed, still without the game-winning goal being scored. Somewhere around the twelve-minute mark of the period, Waverly head Randy grumble next to her about just giving the game to the team with the most shots on goal, which would've been the Bobcats, by a considerable margin.
Nicole's line took the ice with 7:27 remaining with a faceoff in the offensive zone on the goalie's right side. Nicole had pulled Shae aside and was whispering something into her ear, a plan or a play of sorts, no doubt. Instead of Nicole taking the faceoff, the captain did, and as the puck was dropped, she didn't try to win it back or even shield off the opposite center. Instead, Shae shot the puck straight off the faceoff, ricocheting off of the goalie's left pad. Nicole had boxed out the winger on the faceoff and beat her to the rebound, finding the puck before anyone else, finally, mercifully ending the game.
The Devils flew off the bench toward Nicole, elated to have come out on top in this marathon, and while Waverly was beyond overjoyed at the outcome, her attention was caught by the Swamp Witch standing up on the bench with her arms crossed and a menacing look on her face.
Well that certainly couldn't be good, could it?
Waverly and Wynonna practically sprinted through their postgame responsibilities, just really wanting to get the hell home. With the arena now completely cleared out, the pair were getting ready to lock up, just waiting for Nicole to leave the locker room so that they could leave. They'd planned to go to Shorty's with Doc and Robin and Jeremy after the game, but a 7 pm game should've ended at 9:30, 10:00 the latest, yet the game had ended at a quarter to one, and they were nearing two am when Nicole entered the lobby, dragging her feet dramatically.
"Something tells me you're gonna be public enemy number one back in Brandon." Wynonna quipped, leading the group toward the door and opening the alarm panel.
"Yeah, you'd know a thing or two about that, huh?" Nicole rolled her eyes at the woman playfully.
"Hilarious." Wynonna deadpanned. "All I'm saying is that you should probably watch your back for the next few days. Don't wanna get knee-capped in a back alley or something like that."
Wynonna had obviously meant it as a joke, but she also hadn't seen what Waverly had seen from the Bobcats' coach. She wouldn't put it past anyone with a nickname like the Swamp Witch to try something Tonya Harding-esque.
"Oh, shut it Wynonna." Waverly slapped her sister on the shoulder, deciding not to think of any hypothetical danger to Nicole as they approached the truck. She climbed into the backseat with her girlfriend, pulling her in close for warm embrace. "You…were incredible tonight."
"Mmm, thank you baby, but it was more luck than anything."
"I couldn't have played that long without giving up, tell me again, how many minutes did you play tonight?"
"I think you already know that; you know, you being scorekeeper and all."
"Yeah, but I wanna hear you tell me about your incredible game."
"I wanna say, forty…six minutes?" Nicole said through a yawn.
"Forty-six minutes and fifty-eight seconds to be exact."
Nicole nodded, resting her head on Waverly's shoulder, stifling another yawn.
They rode in silence for the last couple of minutes of the ride back to the homestead. Wynonna hollered at the pair when they pulled into the drive and they hopped out and made their way inside.
Upstairs, Waverly had changed into her pajamas and was finishing up brushing her teeth a little bit faster than she normally would, but it had been a long day and she wanted to get to her girlfriend as quick as possible.
"Hey, you gotta tell me all about that play on that goal," she called as she walked down the hall back to her room. "Was it your id—"
She cut herself off at a sight that made the entirety of her being melt. Nicole had been sprawled out on the bed, still in her team sweatsuit and beanie, her face softened with the peace of sleep. The events of the day had surely caught up to her, and tucking into bed with her girlfriend, she pulled the beanie off her head and the blankets over the two of them, falling quickly into a content sleep.