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Looking For You

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If anything could make Waverly happy in this world it would be a cure for this soulmate nonsense, a magical soap to wash it all away. She didn’t ask for this, she certainly didn’t ask for the words ‘I didn’t know Shorty’s had wet t-shirt competitions’ written indelibly on her wrist. 

Honestly, who is this boy she’s going to meet. She might be able to guess – the kind of yahoo idiot that passes through Purgatory, or even worse, the kind that choses to move here and stay. She supposes it could be worse. She doesn’t have to worry about Champ or Ryan S or Matt Mackie being her soulmate because they’ve talked at her plenty of times. Never anything about t-shirts. Wet or otherwise.

The day she’s offered the job at Shorty’s she wants to refuse, she really does. But what else is she gonna do. Resist fate? Yeah right, she’s been fate’s bitch since the day she was born. 

She dates a few guys, finally gets caught up with Champ who is stupid, condescending, but means well, can be sweet, and is really good in bed. She likes to think she’s happy, but still the words stay on her wrist. She studies, she works, she tries not to think about her soulmate, but it’s with simmering anxiety that Waverly goes to work at Shorty's.

The worry sits deep in her stomach everyday. It’s a low simmer now, almost something she can ignore even if she’s always vaguely aware, even if she watches the door all day and night and feels relief at every familiar face passing through.

The worry simmers persistent and frustrating until one day… it’s gone. Just a month after her twenty-first birthday, Waverly wakes up for work, and the anxiety that’s been a part of her every day is gone.


Two states over, a young woman passes her final officer’s exam, shakes her instructor’s hand and formally files her application for the first town ready to take on a deputy. It’s a funny thing to call a town; Purgatory is going to be an interesting training ground.




Nicole has never worried about the whens or hows of meeting her Soulmate. With 'I’m just a bit jumpy, had a crazy night’ written on her wrist though, Nicole does worry for her, whoever she is. She knows her soulmate is a girl. It had never occurred to her to believe otherwise. So all she wonders is if the girl is okay, if she’ll be scared of Nicole for some reason. Her soulmate has been through enough; she knows it.

When Nicole was only eight, she remembers feeling a pain in her chest, an emotion so powerful it took the breath from her lungs and brought tears to her eyes. She was mourning, though no one she knew had died. That had been a rough year for Nicole and she’ll forever be convinced that what she was feeling, was coming from her soulmate. Lots of people say it’s impossible, that the phantom feelings are just illusions, a trick of the mind and wishful thinking. About as real as angels or the tooth-fairy.

But then, Nicole has always been a romantic.

On the morning she leaves, Nicole packs up the last of her things into boxes and hugs her family goodbye. Her mum cries and her sister tries to look unemotional, and fails. Nicole loves them dearly, but it’s time for the next part of her life, so she gives them both a final squeeze and slips into her car. A thrill runs through her. She’s been feeling these little jolts of excitement. It’s to be expected when moving, starting something new. There’s something else under the excitement though. Her Mom tried to tell her it’s nerves.

“Just cause you’ve spent your days till now swaggerin round all bold and brave, doesn’t mean you’re immune to nerves.” Her Mom has always teased Nicole for her cockiness. “Barely the safe side of conceited, Nicole Haught.” But then she’s always been supportive too.

“It doesn’t feel like nerves, Mom. It feels like…” She pressed a hand over her heart and her Mom’s expression softened.

“You think it’s her?” Her Mom isn’t a believer.

Nicole just shrugged with a smile. She knows what she feels. She knows.

Twelve hours to Purgatory and she feels like she can’t get there soon enough.




Soon, Waverly’s worry was replaced by something else. At first she didn't notice, or she dismissed the quiet calm feeling. It’s one she’s known little enough of in her life. A week after the anxiety leaves(she marked the day in her calendar as a little blue cross so no one will ask, but she will know), she decides she has come to some kind of acceptance. Another week after, she names the feeling contentment and breaks up with Champ.

Champ was surprised to say the least. “What the fuck, Waverly?”

“I’ve outgrown you.” Waverley didn't pull any punches. She doesn’t need to please Champ or any of his friends, not when she has herself, when she has her own spirit and intelligence.

Three weeks after, Waverly is at the store, just buying vegetables when something swells inside her chest, right beside and with that feeling she named contentment. A surge of excitement makes her feel like she’s walking on air.

She’s felt these phantom emotions before, had glared at the words on her wrist resenting them even as she never believed that spiritual guff about soulmate connections. Now she almost jumps for the joy of her feelings, a grin on her lips like no other. Wide and happy, and she presses a hand to her chest as she renames the feeling; affection and longing flood through with her excitement so bright and strong they bring tears to her eyes.  

She glances at the words on her wrist as she pays for her groceries. She refuses to give this idiot the time and energy, the emotions that she’s been assured her whole life she will feel. Waverly Earp is in command of her life. She didn’t break up with Champ just to fall into another boy’s arms. She meant it when she told him she needed space and time, needed her independence right now. She has bigger things to think about.

On the way out the door, she overhears someone talking about Purgatory’s new Deputy.

“Strange name,” they say with that tone of disapproval only ever heard in small towns with historically narrow social circles. “She’s awful young, don’t you think?”

Waverly doesn’t care enough to stay, not when the call comes in from Gus.




It feels better than right, driving into Purgatory. Nicole can’t figure out what it is. No one is especially friendly, the town is kinda dusty and forlorn looking. It’s only claim to fame is that Wyatt Earp lived here at one time. Yet, Nicole feels a distinct sense of coming home. She wonders if maybe she’d mistaken her love of the city all these years, if maybe she could be a small town girl after all. It would be a horrible irony, of course. Queer girls and small towns don’t typically mix, and she has no intention of being closeted for any part of her tenure.

She tries not to think about the two years minimum and tries to think about the positives. It gets easier when Nicole finds her little house on the edge of town. She filed the paperwork sight unseen, but she certainly doesn’t regret it when she sees the white picket fence, the little garden and pale blue door. This is home, she thinks and begins to unpack her things.


She hears the name Wynonna Earp first.

A man she never met dies, the autopsy says stroke and word has it that Wynonna Earp is back in town. Nicole doesn’t know how this ‘word’ ever starts, but somehow everyone knows everything about everyone within minutes of the news even starting. Just like everyone knowing who she was, why she's there and where she’d come from, all without knowing her name. She’s polite of course, and works to ingratiate herself. Lets off traffic infringements with a warning, drives drunken sops home instead of throwing them in lock up.

“You’re alright officer…” It’s the name that throws them.

“Haught. Nicole Haught,” she says. It still doesn’t roll off her tongue; Officer Haught was her Daddy after all. She keeps saying it though, and she walks in the way she remembers him walking with both hands on her belt, stetson picture perfect clean on her head. 

The first time she hears the name Waverly Earp is from one of the drunkards. He’d stumbled out of Shortys and down a few blocks before making a nuisance of himself. When he gets in her car he starts mumbling about his head and his too many drinks.

“Maybe, Waverly outa cut me off a bit sooner,” he says.

Something in the name catches at Nicole’s attention. Like it’s familiar. “Waverly?”

The drunk blinks at her warily. “You know, the nice Earp.” When she still doesn’t understand he gestures back toward the bar. “Wynonna’s little sister. Waverly serves the bar at Shorty’s. Sweetest thing. If I were twenty years younger, I tell ya…”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “If you were twenty years younger, you’d still be ten years too old.”

He just chuckles and nods, nearly falling asleep before Nicole can roll him out of her car and leave him with his sister.

Nicole sees Waverly for the first time outside of Shorty’s and really she should have known who she was without telling. She’s met Wynonna for better or worse and they have enough of a certain look to know they’re both Earps. Nicole knows the name Waverly, has found herself thinking on the girl with a smile, even if she has no clue what she looks like. Waverley Earp is a popular girl around here and Nicole finds that she would very much like to know her. Shame Nicole’s got her cuffs on a blow-through crook from Healesville.

Nedley sees where Nicole is looking and tells her after their collar is safely in the cruiser.

“Waverley Earp.”

“I heard she works at Shorty’s.” Her voice is oddly vacant and she clears her throat to try and regain some semblance of normalcy.

“Wynonna’s little sister,” he says with a sneer and dismissive shrug.

Nicole doesn’t take her eyes off Waverly as she says, “I’m sure she’s more than just that.”



Nicole doesn’t get to meet Waverly straight away, and the more she sees her around town and the longer she goes without a chance to introduce herself, the more unsettled she feels. Somehow Nedley is the one to notice. As she throws her paperwork across his desk he stops her leaving and tells her to sit down.

“Nicole, you were so chipper when you got into town I thought I’d have to lock you into your own office rather than put up with it anymore. Now you’re more ornery than a hungry hound.”

Nicole tries to protest but he waves her words away.

“Now I don’t care what’s got you in a knot, if it’s homesickness or some guy that’s turned your head it’s none of my business. Just sort it out and cut the attitude, hear?””

Leaving in an even worse mood, Nicole hands out a parking fine and a speeding ticket on her way home. She gets into her house, orders pizza, is in her pyjamas with a glass of wine before she can really think on it. She wonders if Neadly is right, that maybe she’s homesick, but when she thinks of home she doesn’t really want to go back. She misses her mum and her sister, but between skype and facebook she’s almost more involved in their lives now than when she was living near them.

No, it’s something else, and as she gets to the bottom of her second wine glass she’s just about ready to consider an incredible, ridiculous, and hopelessly romantic option. She traces her fingertips over the words on her wrist. With a small smile on her lips, she sighs. 

“Waverly Earp, what have you done to me.”


Waverly’s feet have started to drag over the past few weeks. At first there was the funeral and everything that went with it. Somehow Waverly skated through without a tear. She was honestly feeling too warm, too content and excited about waking every day to mourn. Wynonna was too caught up in her own conspiracies to notice any change in Waverly and when it’s confirmed that the Revenants are active again in Purgatory, there’s black badge for her to worry about.

Waverly tried to help Wynonna and Dolls, but she was sidelined as always, and that’s what she tried to blame for the dark cloud that started to dim her sunshine, that stole the skip from her step. As the weeks went by, she felt less warm, less excited and more impatient. Impatient for what, she can’t guess, she doesn’t know. It’s a restless kind of longing for something, something close yet out of reach. And it only gets worse, her mood darkening regardless of what’s happening on any day.

Gus is the one to confront her – corners her on shift and demands to know what the hell’s crawled up her butt in the last few weeks.

“Nothin,” she says crossing her arms over her chest. It doesn’t really fly when she’s already thrown a beer at one patron, broken three glasses and threatened to break a bottle over another guy’s head – just that morning.

Gus is still looking at her, both eyebrows raised.


“You’ve always been an honest kid.” She looks down to where Waverly is absentmindedly running her fingertips over the words on her wrist. “If you gotta leave Purgatory to find this person, find what you want—”

“Come on Gus, do you really think this is the guy I want?” She brings her wrist up to eye height to show I didn’t know Shorty’s had wet t-shirt competitions. Gus knows the words, everyone in Purgatory has had a good laugh about it, but apparently Gus needs the reminder. “Why would I chase after this swizzle stick?” She huffs a sigh and tucks both hands into her armpits, just to get the damn words out of her sight. “Besides…”

Gus waits a respectable time before prompting. “What, Baby Girl?” Waverly mumbles her response, not sure if she’s ready to acknowledge her suspicions aloud. At Gus’s prompting, Waverly rolls her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure the idiot’s already here.”

“You think they’re here?” Gus suddenly looks about as excited as Waverly at the prospect of this boy. “Baby girl, I thought you’d be leavin Purgatory.”

“Yeah, well.” Waverly shrugs again and when Gus pulls her into her arms, she tries really hard not to cry.


That afternoon, as she’s locking up shorty’s Waverly sees Nedley and the new deputy pushing some blow-through into their police cruiser. She sends up a prayer to whoever is listening that the guy being pushed into the car isn’t the one she’s been waiting for.


By the next morning, Waverly is starting to feel better, like crying it out with Gus released some pressure inside her. At least she thinks that’s why. Strange dreams followed her through sleep – a faceless sheriff’s officer saying her name softly. She goes into Shorty’s feeling optimistic about the day, less worried about the boy, and not thinking at all about who might walk in.


Accross town, Nicole Haught irons her uniform, sweeps a brush over her hat and straightens her collar in front of the mirror.

“Maybe one more,” she mutters, letting another button loose on her shirt to see what it would look like.

She tries to tell herself that it’s no pressure, that she’s just going to ask a girl out on a date, no big deal. But, it is a big deal because what if Waverly is the one stirring all these feelings. She hasn’t even met her yet and Nicole is already jumping out of her skin with excitement. She glances at her wrist again. Just a bit jumpy. Had a crazy night. She’s going to try not to sneak up on this girl. But then, if this is fate, then there’s not a lot she can do.

With a few minutes before she has to leave, Nicole picks up her hat. Cradling it in her hands she says aloud, “I’ve been meanin to introduce myself. I’m Officer— wait no, I’m Nicole Haught.” She gives a nod at her reflection. “I’m Nicole, Nicole Haught. And you are Waverly Earp… or does that make me sound like a creeper?” She shakes her head. “Nope, tiny town. And she’s a popular girl. So popular.”

Nicole closes her eyes and presses two fingers to the bridge of her nose feeling an unfamiliar surge of nerves. Waverly is popular. And pretty. So pretty with a sweet personality to match a sweet smile if all accounts are to be believed.

“C’mon Haught,” she says again. “You got this.”

Chapter Text

 A half hour before opening, Waverly is prepping the bar, making sure everything is clean and the music is right. She connects a fresh barrel out back and returns to test the taps. Singing along to the song, she feels good, like things are going to work out today. Everything is fine, right up until the lager tap bursts. She squeals and jumps backwards, but there’s no getting away from the spray. She swears and smacks at the tap until the beer finally stops.

“Great. Perfect.” That’s when she hears the light chuckle coming from the door and her heart falls halfway to her feet. Here he is. The fool.

“I didn’t know Shorty’s had wet t-shirt competitions.” Nicole tries not to wince as it occurs to her that those words – those stupid words are what will be on Waverly’s wrist if she’s… But Nicole can’t think about that right now, whether she is or isn’t, she likes Waverly already. “Are you okay?” She asks trying to make up for… for something. Terrible first words?

Waverly tries to keep her shock checked. Not a stupid boy after all, but an idiot girl, leaning in the doorway to Shorty’s and trying to be charming. And dammit if Waverly doesn’t feel… relieved somehow, even if her heartbeat is still hammering. She tries to calm down. She knows what the next words are to the two of them. Her next words have been on this woman’s wrist for years. She’s tempted to ask what they say, but then it would be, what does yours say, and that would be more embarrassing than the wet t-shirt thing.

God, she doesn’t want to say anything, but then the girl is walking towards her, and it’s that new deputy. The one that works under Nedley. Nedley who’s had all sorts of trouble with Wynonna and thinks that all Earps are bad news, and oh—. That makes sense – more sense than Waverly having some as yet unknown sapphic tendency. An idiot prank then, and this poor new recruit has been sent in some kind of hazing ritual. The new recruit that walks with an easy sway to her hips, that wears the sheriff’s department uniform better than anyone Waverly’s seen before.

“Yeah, I ah,” Waverly hesitates, trying to be calm and not overthink. “Just a bit jumpy. Crazy night.” She focuses on patting down the front of her shirt with a towel, barely able to make eye contact.

This girl doesn’t have those words on her wrist; this is just a prank.

Nicole finds her heart beating that much faster. There are the words she’s been waiting for and this is the girl. She swallows, her mouth dry as she moves forward trying to remember what she’d practiced. Because what if Waverly’s one of those people that didn’t get her words, or what if she has a scar on her wrist instead, or just doesn’t believe? What if her reply was just a coincidence after all?

She takes a deep breath, trying to pull back that calm confidence Waverly has so quickly derailed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to see it.” she has to pause. Waverly is still patting down the front of her shirt and it is honestly distracting. Nicole sets her hat, still clean and white, on the bar, glancing down as she tries to collect her thoughts and words. “I’ve been ah, meanin to introduce myself.” She holds out her hand with no small amount of trepidation.

Waverly sees the hint of nerves and can’t help but find this new Deputy… endearing. She decides to giver her the benefit of the doubt and smiles easily as she reaches out to take her hand. Nicole’s hand is warm as her eyes, strong and firm with the callouses of hard work.

Her smile broadens to match Waverly’s. “I’m Nicole, Nicole Haught.”

Waverly feels the heat of her hand travel up her arm, heart rate accelerating just enough to leave her feeling giddy, a little more prone to smiling.

“Hi,” Waverly says, no other real words coming to mind. There’s a pause between them as they smile into the introduction.

“And you’re Waverly Earp,” she says. Her voice is confident, like she’s known who Waverly is for some time. “Quite a popular girl around here.”

Distantly Waverly thinks she should be bothered, but the feeling is too fleeting to settle into and she finds herself blushing at the way Nicole’s eyes seem to drink her in. It’s silly to think for a second that Nicole is maybe… no. It’s a prank and she’s here because she’s been dared to. The growing warmth in Waverly’s chest and the prickling feeling of something falling into place that part-way resembles epiphany is just some weird reaction to the beer maybe. This new deputy knows Waverly’s name because the idiot boys working in the Sheriff’s office told her. That’s why Nicole hasn’t taken any sneaking glance at her wrist.

Nicole is so wrapped up in that smile (the one she knew was pretty from far away, that’s dazzling up close) she doesn’t realise she’s probably been holding Waverly’s hand too long. She releases her grip, not happy to give up the warmth of Waverly’s hand, and she finds herself trailing her fingers across her palm, both of them holding contact until the last moment their fingers finally slip past.

Waverly doesn’t know what to say and finds herself vaguely waving. “Oh, you know, it’s all in the smile and wave.” She tries to laugh away the feeling in her chest, but it’s hard to keep telling herself it’s just a prank when Nicole looks at her like that. A look that speaks to how much Nicole really has been meaning to come introduce herself. Prank or no.

Nicole’s thoughts almost stall as Waverly just looks at her. She’d practiced the introduction, but forgot all about a reason to be here. Her reason is she wants to ask Waverly on a date, but there’s something off here, some unmet expectation between them. She resists the urge to just glance at Waverly’s wrist. Her own wrist is covered by the sleeves of her uniform and she know’s it would be an invasion to just straight up look, or god forbid ask.

So rather than blurt out the fact that she thinks Waverly is the prettiest girl she’s ever seen, she takes a swing at the first thing that comes to mind and orders a coffee. She glances away to close her eyes a moment. She doesn’t even like coffee. And she’s an idiot.

“Oh, I’m really sorry,” Waverly says, and she really does sound sorry. “We’re not actually open yet so…”

“Oh right, my bad.” Nicole grins, turns back to Waverly, and as natural as breathing, she feels that cocky Haught swagger fall back into place – because that’s an opening too good to not walk through. “It’s just when I ah, when I see something I like, I don’t wanna wait.” She lets the words linger. “And your door was open. So.”

And there it is. Waverly’s face blanks as she registers, but doesn’t quite get what Nicole is doing. A straight girl reaction if ever she’s seen one. Waverly blinks and keeps pressing the towel to herself, pulling her shirt down as Nicole tries not to look. She really tries.

Meanwhile, Waverly is trying to break her. “Oh god, I’m soaking wet.”

Fighting a blush, Waverly doesn’t know why she’s finding it this hard to make words happen. She’s the charming one, the witty and friendly Earp that serves drinks with a smile. So why is this deputy any different. Sure, Nicole seems charming, her smile disarming and easy to fall into, but really this should be simple. It’s just because she’s soaked through and disoriented after the tap burst. That’s all. And maybe it is a little… intriguing to have a girl – a quite lovely girl – flirting so obnoxiously with her. Even if it is just a dare.

She mumbles something about Shorty fixing the taps then gestures for Nicole to cover her eyes. It’s awkward, but really, once her shirt’s wrung out she’ll be fine. As Waverly turns her body away from Nicole, she has to shake her head; she almost looks back, but thinks better of it. She just needs to wring out her shirt and then… she doesn’t know, but first things first and she’ll be fine.

Except she isn’t fine because her shirt gets caught on her elbows and in her hair and god, she is a mess. A stuck mess that needs help.

She glances back at Nicole, still turned away, her hat on the bar, the line of her shoulders stiff. “Ah, officer,” she says trying to smile. “I need help, I’m stuck.”

Nicole is there in an instant, close enough to feel her heat against Waverly’s nearly naked body.

“Here, lemme help you.” Warm words and warm hands guide the shirt over Waverly’s elbows and past her hair.

Still shrouded, Waverly tries to joke. “Good thing you’re not some guy, right, or this would be really...” Her voice rises a little as her vision clears and she’s met with a broadly smiling Nicole. They’re both grinning at the situation and Waverly feels her heart stutter a faster rhythm, the tips of her fingers zapping with unreasonable nerves. “Really awkward,” she finishes lamely.

Nicole stands her ground, unable to keep her smile anything other than bright as the penny drops and Waverly realises that some guy or not, Nicole is there, is genuinely interested, and just helped her out of her shirt. And oh how she preens under the look Waverly gives her – confused, flattered, intrigued, even as she lifts her returned shirt to cover her chest. Nicole keeps her eyes up, looking Waverly in the eye, but there’s no mistaking anymore why she’s here.

There’s something falling into place between them, she can feel it. Her own excitement pressed up against a sweet nervous energy that she can’t quite convince herself is her own. Waverly. She’s felt the extremes of her soulmate’s feelings since they were children. She’s felt them even more keenly since coming to Purgatory; pain, happiness, love, and fears that aren’t quite hers.

Now standing this close to Waverly, it’s like those other feelings are mixing with and amplifying her own. The stutter of her heart, she can see is matched by the fluttering pulse in Waverly’s throat. The excited thrill and happiness exposed by the broad grin on her face matches the light in Waverly’s eye.

“I owe you one,” Waverly says though Nicole barely hears it.

“You should buy me that coffee then.”

Without thinking, Nicole lifts her hand between them, and runs her knuckles gently down the back of Waverly’s forearm. There, that feeling of something dropping into place, a realisation of serendipity.

“I’d love to, but I…” Waverly trails off losing her breath and not able to think of an excuse. Instead, she finds herself asking, “Do you feel that?” She can’t define what that is and finds she doesn’t need to as Nicole nods confidently. “You weren’t s-sent here at-at all?” She trips on her words, overwhelmed.

“Who would send me?” Nicole asks out loud while answering the unasked question by reaching for the buttons on her long sleeves. “I won’t ask to see yours Waverly cause I think I already know what it says.” She gets the buttons undone with shaky fingers and rolls up the sleeves to show off her script. The first words uttered by her soulmate that can’t be altered or washed off. I’m just a bit jumpy, had a crazy night.

Waverly takes a deep shaking breath, tears already forming in her eyes. She wasn’t ready for this. For all the time she spent dreading this moment, wishing she could change the words – the boy who said them – she was never prepared. She feels Nicole’s concern ratchet up next to her trepidation and it feels so strange, yet right to be in this together.

Looking up into Nicole’s eyes, she discovers how close they are now, she’s got all her weight resting on the balls of her feet. As if she’s ready to rock up onto her toes, to push away the hand still trailing goose bumps up her arm to just pull Nicole in and—

“Dammit.” Waverly jerks back. “This is all so very, very strange.”

“Strange.” Nicole repeats. “Here I thought meeting your soulmate would be a joyous occasion, but maybe I just—” she cuts herself off at Waverly’s glare. “What?”

“How are you okay with this? I was about to kiss you. God!” She smacks a hand to her forehead, then remembering her state of undress, presses her shirt quickly back to her chest.

Nicole just smiles. “You were gonna kiss me?”

“Not the point, Nicole.”

“Then what is, Waverly, cause I know what I’m feelin.” She holds one hand against own chest and then reaches across the space between them to hold Waverly’s hand where it rests over her heart. “And right now I’m feelin what you’re feelin too. Tell me you can’t.”

Waverly has to close her eyes at the rush of sensations the contact causes. Nicole’s touch seems to ricochet around her body, building and building in intensity and heat, all focused in her gut, along her thighs and hips and groin. There’s a moan sneaking up her throat before she can stop it. Sensation and feeling double, triple to infinity before she stops. Steps back.

Nicole gasps to catch her breath, stumbling back from the physical force of their severed connection. She feels electrified, switched on, turned on. It’s like she has never, and never will again feel the way she does when she touches Waverly Earp.

“Waverly, I—”

“I hated you!” Waverly shouts the words before she can stop herself. She takes a breath to calm down. It doesn’t work and she finds herself still shouting. “I thought you were some stupid boy that was gonna walk in like an idiot talking about a see through shirt. I thought you were gonna be some useless boy with no hope or prospects cause you were here in Purgatory and this soulmates hooey would just turn my head and I’d have no choice!” She stumbles to a halt, feeling agitated and… dammit all she can feel from Nicole is concern and caring.

Nicole reaches between them again, her hand settling on Waverly’s crossed arms. Her skin feels good, right.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright.” Nicole’s voice is as gentle as the tender emotions Waverly can feel are flowing through her.

Waverly fights against the feelings pushing past her control at Nicole’s touch. It’s not the powerful surge from before, she doesn’t feel turned on with her lust ratcheting higher, she just feels calm, protected and safe. She glares at Nicole for these feelings. She won’t be persuaded.

“I just yelled at you. Why are you being nice to me.”

Nicole scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “I think you’ve just dated too many shitheads.”

Before Waverly can snap out a response there’s a knock from the door. She has barely a second, but Nicole steps between her and the door and gives her the cover she needs to get back into her shirt.

“Oh hi, Officer Haught.”

“Hiya, Sammy.” Nicole nods politely as Waverly pushes around her and makes for the coffee machine, grabbing the bottle of whiskey on her way.

Sammy shuffles down to the bar and there’s nothing more that Nicole can say without laying her heart out on the bar for this sop to see.

Waverly hammers away at the machine for a few moments, cranking up the beans and the steamer before her tense shoulders slump and she glances back at Nicole. “I finish at ten,” she says and Nicole takes the invitation for what it is.

“I hope you have a good day, Waverly.” She lets her affection flood fully to the surface as she passes through to the other side of the bar.

At the door, she finally hears a response. “You too.” The words are nice, but it’s the corresponding flutter of hope she knows is Waverly’s that sends her out with a smile.  


Waiting outside Shorty’s at five past ten, Nicole is nervously turning her stetson around in both hands, leaning awkwardly against her police cruiser. She had to beg the rest of her night off for this so she’s still in her uniform. Waiting for the bar lights to dim is killing her, but she’ll wait. Oh, she will wait. Nicole will respect whatever boundaries Waverly puts up, but dammit she won’t pretend to be happy about it. She plans on letting Waverly know just how much she wants her. At least up until Waverly tells her explicitly to stop. Then, then she can recalibrate this desire churning in her gut.

From Waverly she’s gotten dim surges of confusion, want, resentment, fatigue, excitement and annoyance, all damn day. She can’t pull any emotion as more prominent than any other. So she waits.

At 10.15, the main lights go down, one last man leaves the bar and Waverly is there, leaning against the doorframe. She meets Nicole’s hungry gaze with a shy smile and nods for her to follow inside. Nicole drifts across the street without looking, lucky Purgatory is quiet mid-week. She only has eyes for Waverly who lets her in, and locks the door behind them.


Waverly just shakes her head and takes Nicole’s hand. “I live upstairs.”

“Oh.” Nicole is struck dumb.

She’ll be in Waverly’s home, maybe her bedroom? Nicole follows along behind her like she’s a puppet and Waverly holds her strings. There’s a quickness to her step that leaves Nicole stumbling in her wake; she follows as quick as she can without tripping over the short steps with her long legs until Waverly is tugging her into a small studio apartment. She has enough time to register the scattering of fairy lights above the bed in one corner before she has to stumble aside with Waverly pushing her out of the way to close the door.

“Waverly, what is your problem—”

Without warning, Waverly grabs Nicole’s shoulder, pushes up onto her tiptoes and kisses her, hard and furious.

Waverly thought about this thing between them all day, fretted and panicked. She talked herself out of it, into it then out of it again, and then Nicole was there. She was there exactly when Waverly expected her to be and— damn her lips are soft and sweet and Waverly starts pushing them back towards the bed where she knows she can get to feel her all the better without all that height between them.

When Nicole feels the bed behind her, she lets herself fall, guiding Waverly down with her. Waverly pushes them up higher, kissing her the whole while, hands playing over her shirt, over her hips and waist. Exploring. When her head hits the pillows and Waverly is showing no signs of stopping, Nicole gathers her strength and pushes back against Waverly’s waist.

Mercifully, Waverly responds and pulls back.

“Wa-what happened to friends?” Nicole feels breathless and she wants more than anything to reconnect their skin, but she has to get answers first, no matter how warm Waverly’s waist is under her palms.

Waverly takes a determined breath. “Do you know what I want?”

“What?” Nicole’s voice lifts awkwardly at the end and she can feel the worry and confusion forming on her face. There’s no point hiding her feelings. She can feel the electric buzz of Waverly’s anxiety and knows Waverly can feel hers too.  

“You know—” Waverly takes another deep breath, gathering her thoughts. She watches Nicole’s eyes for a moment looking for any indication that she shouldn’t do this. “I had this whole speech planned about the things that scare me, and how you scare me too.”

“I scare you?” Nicole’s voice is soft, her expression so sincerely protective and sweet that it almost derails Waverly’s concentration.

She holds on long enough to continue. “But now I’m here, and I can feel…” She takes Nicole’s hand and holds it against her cheek. “I can feel you. And you can feel me, and I think you know what I want. Because, what I want. More than anything else in this world, Nicole. Is you.”

Nicole doesn’t need to hesitate, she doesn’t need any more lines, or flirty looks because she can feel Waverly, can feel the desire and heat pouring through her. The stress and anxiety of their situation had clouded it before, but now there’s one thing that’s clear – an endless river of want is shared between them. Intoxicating and thrilling. She pulls Waverly in this time, pulls her down until they’re chest to chest and she can run her hands down Waverly’s back and over the curve of her ass. She grins against Waverly’s lips.

Waverly laughs at their shared joy. “What?”

Nicole giggles too. “My soulmate’s a babe!”

Waverly doesn’t get a chance to roll her eyes because Nicole turns serious again and a pulse of energy goes straight down her abdomen to tingle in her thighs, the echo of desire shared between them. Nicole pushes at her shoulder and before she knows what’s happening, Waverly finds herself on her back, Nicole settling between her thighs, her hand stroking up to find her knee and tugging it higher.

She tilts Waverly’s chin up, her hand stroking back along her jaw as her thumb trails over Waverly’s lips. She’s grinning and the air between them is hot.

“Are you sure?” Nicole makes eye contact with her again, checking in to be safe.

Waverly feels something more behind the words, that she can feel most clearly with their full body contact. She knows Nicole’s desire. She knows admiration and affection. Waverly nods a yes and that’s when the emotion crystallizes and she feels Nicole’s longing stripped bare. For all Waverly’s fear and resistance to the words on her wrist, nothing could dim the passion Nicole already feels and shares with her.

It’s all too much, so Waverly does the only thing she can think to distract herself from any chance of overthinking. She pulls Nicole in and brackets both knees up around Nicole’s hips. The response is fast and feverish as Nicole kisses Waverly deeply, strokes her tongue over her lips and— oh, that’s her hips rocking down and Waverly feels everything at once as she finds Nicole’s mouth matching the rhythm of her hips, kissing across Waverly’s jaw and down her throat to suck at the sensitive skin below her ear.

Everything about Nicole is familiar to her, and yet different to anything she’s experienced before. The overwhelming feeling leaves her weak, with her hands fluttering over Nicole’s shoulders, her back, not sure where to land. She wants to touch everywhere, to feel Nicole more fully against her and she gasps in pleasure both physical and deliciously intellectual as she imagines for the first time what a woman – what this woman might look like naked and writhing beneath her.  

Nicole has already snuck one hand under the hem of Waverly’s shirt and is stroking up the skin of her side. So when she shifts and there's room, Waverly reaches for Nicole's belt and loosens the buckle. She gets a smile at the move and Nicole pushes Waverly's shirt up to expose her belly, hand smoothing over her skin. She’s exploring with gentle feathering touches set to make Waverly squirm, to distract and redirect, but Waverly knows what she wants.

Everything is escalating so quickly, the connection that they’ve always felt has matured to tie them together, to exaggerate the things they both are feeling. Together they burn with a need to see the other undressed, together they desire the sight and sensations of the other’s release.

Nicole breathes into Waverly, teeth worrying over the skin of her throat. She thinks she’s somewhere safe near her collarbone, but then Waverly lets out a low breathy moan and she feels the vibration of Waverly’s voice. Leaning back just far enough to check, she sees dark marks already blossoming on Waverly’s neck, only halfway to her shoulder. She can’t feel anything but happiness at the way Waverly keeps moving against her though and she returns her attention to the soft flesh she’s already addicted to the taste of. Leaving butterfly kisses over the marks she just made, she finds her fingers tracing up over the edge of Waverly’s bra and she sits back to ask.

“Can I?” She give Waverly’s shirt a light tug.

Waverly shakes her head. “You first,” she says and at Nicole’s hasty nod, pushes them upright to better reach all the buttons. After a few seconds of struggle, they both lose patience. Nicole sits up to straddle Waverly’s thighs, and feeling the echo of irritation they both laugh, reach for the bottom of the uniform together and slip it up and over Nicole’s head.

Waverly leans back for a better look, her hand landing on Nicole’s hip, thumb tracing over soft skin. She’s fascinated by the way her flesh pushes out above her belt – the feminine softness to Nicole’s body that marks it as so different to Champ’s.

“Wow,” Waverly blushes at saying anything out loud, but she really couldn’t help it.

Nicole sees the blush and her expression goes soft with concern. “Are you okay? Is this too much?” She reaches for her shirt again, but Waverly shakes her head.

“No, it’s okay, I just never thought I could be this gay.” She laughs a little. “I’ve had crushes on girls before, but I just thought it was… you know. Girls are soft and caring and beautiful and they smell nice—”

“Not gay at all,” Nicole teases. She aims to say more but then Waverly’s slides two hands up over Nicole’s ribs to feel her breasts. She lets out a long breath with the words, “Only a little gay.”

It all feels so right to Waverly, no matter the confusion she’s feeling. She knows bisexuals exist, she knows she can be attracted to both men and women, she just never thought… but it doesn’t matter right now because in her casual exploration she seems to have found some sensitive areas on Nicole’s body and all she really wants to do is get them both a little more naked. A quiet whimper lets her know Nicole agrees and she doesn’t need to say anything as she lifts both arms up and Nicole slips the Shorty’s shirt up over Waverly’s head.

They’re kissing again, deep and exploratory, a tentative touch of tongue past teeth causes Waverly to draw in a sharp breath. She reaches out and feels Nicole react the same way. Pulling her own focus, Waverly deepens the kiss further, does her best to ignore the way Nicole’s hands are leaving burning trails up her hips and over her breasts. She softly bites down on Nicole’s lower lip, nibbles as Nicole smiles and groans, her hips dropping down harder into Waverly’s. With that distraction, Waverly reaches for the clasp at the back of Nicole’s bra.

Nicole can’t help but smile as Waverly struggles with the clasp. The distraction is good for her really, with the way Waverly was kissing her. She could feel the pressure building and regardless of how much she wanted to take all this slow, she found herself rocking down against her, getting close without ever meaning too. Fuck it’s all too much. Thankfully, Waverly’s fumbles are enough to bring her back, to remind her of what’s important regardless of the demands of her body. She reaches behind, nudges Waverly’s fingers out of the way.

“I suck at this,’ Waverly grumbles.

“Practice makes perfect,” Nicole says and undoes her own bra one handed then reaches around and does the same to Waverly’s.

Waverly pouts, even as she slips the straps down Nicole’s shoulders. Before she can pull the bra away all together Nicole kisses her quickly, short and sweet enough to bring her attention back.

“You can practice all you want, beautiful. I promise.”

And then they’re both naked from their hips up and Waverly is staring at her again, sending a fresh thrill through Nicole. Truth is, Nicole might be caught up in staring as well. She may have been with a few women, but she doesn’t think any of them have felt like this. As Waverly pulls at her shoulders and Nicole falls against her, she knows that she’s never felt this before. She can feel what Waverly is feeling even as she is overwhelmed. She shifts and settles one thigh between Waverly’s. They settle easily, fit perfectly and start rocking as they kiss, grinding and making out like teenagers.

Nicole feels the amusement echo through Waverly and to keep from laughing outright, she pulls away, trails back down Waverly’s throat, this time going past her collarbones. Her hands are already holding Waverly’s breasts. She didn’t ask permission, it just kind of happened and Waverly only pulled her in tighter at whatever she was feeling. This though, she wants to know Waverly is okay with.

With one hands stroking up Waverly’s side, and the other cradling her breast, thumb circling over her nipple, it takes a few moments for Waverly to realise Nicole wants her attention. She asks with a kiss to her sternum and Waverly seems to know, she nods and rocks her own hips down, ass pressing into the mattress and then thigh pulling up and into Nicole. Nicole appreciates the attention and rocks her hips down pressing herself against her. She’s quite possibly never been so wet in her life and fuck it, she can’t keep these polyester pants on any longer.

“Waves,” she says out loud.

“Hmm?” Waverly sighs in response not quite opening her eyes, still just feeling.

“Is it… is it okay if I take my pants off?”

That gets her attention. Waverly looks town at her then, and Nicole has to distract herself from the intensity of that look by kissing the top of Waverly’s breast. The skin is soft and she licks her lips to chase the sweetness. Waverly tracks the movement of her tongue before nodding frantically and pushing with both hands until Nicole is kneeling on the bed and she can feel Waverly’s frantic energy pouring through her. Everything screaming at Nicole: naked, now.

“Okay, okay,” Nicole chuckles at the silent demands and stands.

Waverly sits up as well, watching as Nicole undoes her buttons, then helping to push the pants from her hips and down her thighs, Waverly forgetting any shyness she might have had to drag Nicole’s underwear down with them.

“Wow,” she says again, and Nicole has to fight hard not to laugh this time. She wouldn’t be laughing at Waverly, of course, it’s just so joyful to see someone like this, to feel Waverly’s awe and surprise and lust and excitement. It’s beautiful.

Stepping out of her pants, Nicole tries not to feel self conscious. Waverly’s still wearing hers so she reaches for the waistband.

“If you want to,” Nicole says pushing as much sincerity into her words as possible.

Waverly nods, Nicole undoes the button and tugs making sure to keep eye contact as she does. Waverly lifts her hips and the jeans come down with her underwear. With a flourish, like a magician Nicole tugs them down off over her feet, and gives them a flick. As she’d hoped, Waverly laughs, full and easy even as she lays an arm over her eyes and crosses her legs at the ankles. She doesn’t cover her body though and you gladly look, loving the way the dim lights cast shadows over her subtle dips and curves. Beautiful.

Tempted as she is just to stare at her all night, Nicole crawls onto the bed, over Waverly and onto her side. Waverly’s skin feels cool enough to touch that Nicole makes her shift, pulls the blankets out from under them to pull back over and snuggle under for warmth. It’s easy, natural and by the time she’s settled (bodies pressed warm along one side, Nicole on her belly, Waverly on her back), Waverly has stopped blushing and is looking at Nicole instead.

“Why is this so easy?” Waverly asks, turning partway onto her side.

Nicole doesn’t answer straight away. She trails her fingers across Waverly’s stomach, noting the ticklish way she flinches, feels over her hips then down the outside of her thighs to her knees then up the other side again stopping at Waverly’s breast and settling there. She kisses her shoulder, her cheek.

“I guess it’s just meant to be.”

“You really believe in that?” Her voice lacks conviction, not surprising given the circumstances.

“How old are you?” Nicole can’t stop the blush at her question. Strange how they really know nothing about each other.

Waverly just laughs lightly. “Twenty-one as of a couple months ago.”

Nicole does the quick maths. “When you were six, did something bad happen?”

Waverly’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

Nicole chews at her lip trying to summarize the feelings she was so sure came from her soulmate. “It felt like you were scared, really scared, and then sad. So sad, I thought my own heart had broken. You were mourning someone. Someone important.”

Waverly starts to breathe a little quicker, but it’s not arousal this time(though it’s there simmering in the background always). What she’s feeling now is a nervous energy as if she’s standing on the edge of a precipice. She never wanted to believe, but now she has no choice. “Daddy died when I was six.”

Nicole doesn’t try to offer sympathy. Waverly guesses that she can feel how much she doesn’t want it. It happened so long ago, she’s had enough sympathy to last a lifetime.

Nicole gives her a small smile. “I felt so much, and no one believed it but me. I knew though. I always knew I’d find you.”

Waverly wants to be stubborn, to refuse to believe. But it’s too late, she’s here, she can feel Nicole’s passion for her reflected and amplified by her own passion for Nicole.

Finally, she rolls into her, pushes her leg over Nicole’s hips until she’s straddling her and the blankets fall down her back. They’re close, so close that Nicole must be able to feel how wet she is. She slips her thigh between Nicole’s legs and… Fuck, there’s no mistaking that feeling no matter how new she is to this. Nicole is turned on. Nicole is just as turned on as Waverly is, and they’re really going to do this.

They’re kissing again, tounges and teeth and rolling hips. Waverly pushes and pulls as best she knows how, acting and reacting with Nicole’s moans and whimpered sighs until she doesn’t know what to do. She’s stuck.

Separating their lips and letting her legs fall to one side of Nicole’s Waverly distances herself as much as she can stand it without losing contact with Nicole, who keeps running soothing hands up her back.

“Hey, you still with me?” Nicole is going for saint of the year without a hint of frustration in her voice.

“You’re just— I am— I don’t—” Waverly presses her face against Nicole’s shoulder. “Could you say something, Nicole? Cause I really don't know what I'm doing here.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“Touch you all over.”

“See, you do know what you're doing,” She says with a grin.

Waverly returns the smile weakly. “What do you want to do?”

Nicole’s smile is cheeky, but her hands are soft and safe, her eyes fixed to Waverly's. “Maybe I can just show you.” She's asking permission.

Waverly nods quickly and Nicole guides her back with one hand against her shoulder. And resettles herself between Waverly’s legs, kissing her way down her sternum, fingers breezing over her breasts. Her lips replace her fingers soon, wet and hot against her nipple and Waverly’s back arches sharply into her. Every reaction, every feeling flooding Waverly, Nicole can feel and she keeps rocking down into her, rocking herself into the bed. They’re both working each other up so quickly. She’s always been turned on by the way a girl moans, she definietly gets off on getting other girls off, but this is on a whole other level.

She knows exactly where to touch her because Waverly’s pleasure is her pleasure. She knows where to suck because it’s like she’s getting the guided tour of every pleasure point Waverly has. It’s perfect and fucking magical, and Nicole has to to stop moving her own hips so much or she’s going to come. And she’s not ready for that. Waverly first, she can ride out whatever happens second. For now, the only thing she can think of is tasting Waverly, but she knows it’s too soon, is sure Waverly is freaked out enough without Nicole just diving down between her legs and licking her until she’s screaming and pulling her hair— and fuck, Nicole pulls back as Waverly winces.

Waverly’s laugh is comforting as she traces a finger over the fresh hickey Nicole left on her breast, but Nicole still determines to be more careful. Her touches return to gentle over Waverly’s skin and one hand lingers lower, lower along Waverly’s stomach and accross the line between her hips. Waverly is squirming.

“Stop teasing,” she says, and oh Nicole is ready to stop teasing.

No longer hesitating, Nicole pushes her fingers down through tight curls and into hot swolen wet heat. Waverly laughs at the feeling, sighs at the pleasure and demands Nicole’s lips back on her with scrabbling fingers at her shoulders. Nicole makes her way up slowly, reexamining each breast with a lingering tongue, trailing kisses up her collarbone and the tight curve of her throat.

“You feel fucking amazing,” she breathes into Waverly’s ear. “Everything about you.”

Waverly can’t answer anymore, she can’t seem to make any coherant words beyond yes and more, please, there and, oh Nicole. Waverly says Nicole’s name over and over until it’s imprinted in her voice, until she thinks there’s no other word for yes or skin or heat or pleasure. She feels her legs quivering, but it doesn’t scare her as it might have before because Nicole is tethering her down, keeping her grounded while working her up.

She can feel with two hands the strength in Nicole’s shoulders, in her arm as she moves her hand between them. She can feel Nicole wet and sliding against her thigh, her movements as irregular as the shift and slip of her fingers are sure. Quick strokes over her clit work Waverly higher and higher until Nicole’s fingers move down. Her thumb picks up the rhythm instead as Nicole’s fingers dip to her entrance, and Waverly almost loses it just at the thought of Nicole fucking her.

Nicole’s hips slip harder against her and they’re not kissing anymore, instead Nicole is breathing raggedly into her ear and Waverly holds her closer, a hand at the back of her neck, fingers tangled in the sweat-damp auburn hair. At some signal they could never explain, Nicole slips two fingers inside. She thrusts and Waverly cries out. Another thust and she’s so fucking close. Nicole working thumb and fingers in slow steady circles stops Waverly articulating anything intelligently as she's reduced to quiet whimpers and moans. She can feel the flush in her cheeks, the building pleasure closing in on her.

She can feel as well, Nicole’s awareness of her, she can feel Nicole’s own pleasure as she rocks against Waverly’s thigh. Even without the connection she could feel Nicole rocking hard and smooth, slick wetting her skin, voice and breath ragged in Waverly’s ear. It’s everything at once that makes her knee snap up and her whole body clench so hard Nicole’s fingers are forced to stop.

Buried inside, Waverly knows Nicole can feel her clenching around her fingers, knows how much it turns Nicole on. The knowing and feeling and fucking so close and so real finds Waverly dancing along on a wave of orgasm with no end in sight until Nicole’s hips stop, she shudders and Waverly hears her own name come from Nicole through a groan. And that’s when the wave breaks with a shuddering sigh and Waverly’s pushing Nicole away, shoving at her hands to make those fingers withdraw from her way too sensitive… everything. She’s pulsing and laughing and shivering with the overwhelming pleasure of it. And fuck, she thinks. Will it be like that every time?

Nicole chuckles as she falls happily to one side and kisses Waverly’s cheek. “We can hope so, Baby. We can hope so.”


When Waverly wakes, her bed is warmer and more comfortable than she thinks it ever has been. Her pillow smells sweet and the room like… like sex. Oh. That’s the warmth curled over her. Long slender arms tucked under her neck and over her waist. Nicole’s knees are tucked into the backs of hers and she’s so comfortable she doesn’t remember the last time she slept so well. Nicole tucks in closer to her, tightening the arm around her waist.

“Baby, don’t freak out okay.” Nicole’s voice is too drowsy to hold much emotion, but Waverly can feel the concern.

She can see Nicole’s hat where it fell to the floor some time last night and she hopes it’s not dirty. Then she realises that she doesn’t give two hoots about a damn hat.

“Sorry,” Nicole says, feeling Waverly’s mild annoyance at the transfer of attachment. Her grin is apparent though, even with just that one word. “I worked hard for it.”

Waverly turns over to see Nicole’s face, sleepy and content. Her heart flutters with happiness to see her. A happiness that’s reflected in Nicole’s blissful smile. “It’s a lovely hat, Nicole.”

“Damn straight.” Nicole’s face is pushed so hard into the pillows that she’s mostly talking out the side of her mouth. Waverly decides it’s cute.

“I think I might keep it.”

Nicole’s answer comes fast and without thought. “Lucky I’m keeping you.”

She’s asleep again before Waverly can say anything, and the truth is that she really doesn’t need to. Waverly didn’t ask for the words on her wrist. And she wouldn’t give them up for anything in the world.