Nicole and Wynonna had the habit of getting completely shit-faced together. Arguably it was the best habit they shared and it certainly helped them transition from the awkward ‘I’m dating your sister’ stage to the ‘you’re my best friend’ endgame. It was a habit that they both enjoyed, not that either of them would say that explicitly. Wynonna had never had a best friend before and she was starting to sense that Nicole was a little bit too much under Waverly’s thumb and she resolved to do something about it. The ‘invitation’ she extended was a series of random emojis followed by multiple question marks but Nicole understood: it was the time to start scheduling their drunken shenanigans rather than just waiting for circumstances to line up. She insisted they ask for Waverly’s permission and Wynonna had to concede that, without it, Waverly would probably decide that she had just kidnapped Nicole and never speak to either of them again.
Waverly agreed in principle but her disappointment in being left out was palpable; Nicole nearly bailed multiple times as Waverly shuffled around the house ignoring both of them. She insisted on drawing up an agreement - or contract - that she made them both sign that outlined what their nights together could entail. Strip clubs and drinking games were disappointingly off the table but other than that, the world was their drunken oyster.
Their first planned night out together started at Shorty’s which should have meant a good evening was a certainty. It turned out to be far from that. They found a corner booth and waited for the pool table to free up but from there the night never really got the chance to get started as they were plagued with confused looks from the other patrons and concerned enquiries about Waverly. Eventually they made it onto the pool table but their ridiculous competitiveness wasn’t enough to give the night the edge they were hoping for. They gave up not long after so their first planned adventure together ended too soon and neither of them had drunk enough for it not to feel awkward.
When they got back to The Homestead, Nicole unlaced her boots at the door and crept upstairs hoping not to wake up Waverly. She needn’t have bothered: the light was on and there she was, sat up holding a book that she clearly wasn’t reading.
“Heyy baby,” Nicole said, smiling falsely, “I didn’t think you’d still be up.”
“Of course,” Waverly said, not returning the smile, “my girlfriend and my sister go out without me, of course I’m gonna want to hear about it.”
“Are you mad at me?” Nicole asked hesitantly, sitting at the end of the bed.
“No,” Waverly said in a voice that clearly meant yes. She drew her knees up to her chin, pulling the blankets with them and putting her book on the bedside table.
“What is it?” Nicole said and shuffled down the bed so she could reach her knee. She rested her hand there and then shuffled up further so she could nestle her head into Waverly’s lap. Despite clearly being at least a little bit put out, Waverly couldn’t resist Nicole’s affection and started to run her hand gently through her hair and kissing her forehead.
“I guess I’m just a bit jealous,” she said eventually.
“Jealous?” Nicole asked, sitting up.
“Yeah,” Waverly shrugged, “You and Wynonna always seem to go off and have these crazy adventures and I’m just left to hear about them afterwards.”
“It’s been a couple of times, Waves,” Nicole said, “and I’m always hammered and pretty terrified whenever I’m with her. A lot of the time, I’d much rather just be snuggled up here with you.”
“But you’re gonna go out again?”
“Well, yeah,” Nicole admitted, “Shorty’s was pretty awkward. Everyone just asked where you were so next month we’re gonna go somewhere else. Try again. Wynonna’s very excited.”
“You’re not going to another strip club are you?”
“Not a chance.”
“You say that but somehow that’s where you and Wynonna always end up,” Waverly said accusingly.
“That’s on her, not me.”
“Ok. I believe you,” Waverly kissed her forehead.
“I’m glad. Now can we go to bed? I’m pretty tired,” Nicole crawled up the bed and slipped under the covers and pulled Waverly in close.
***
The following month, in a move completely out of character for her, Wynonna presented Nicole with a written plan and a large cup of coffee when they were sat at the kitchen table together. “Waverly made me write it so she could check we weren’t doing anything too exciting without her,” she explained as she handed over a napkin with scrawl going diagonally across it.
When Nicole was finally able to decipher the handwriting, she found that it simply said ‘we are not going to a strip club but we will probably get pizza’. “Can we start with the pizza? Line our stomach?” Nicole said hopefully.
“Seriously Haught?” Wynonna slammed her mug down on the table, “That takes the fun out of everything.”
Nicole shrugged, “I think that’s what Waverly’s hoping.”
“We could always invite her,” Wynonna said tentatively.
“Really?” Nicole said, with a glimmer of hope tinged with panic in her voice.
“No stupid,” Wynonna said and threw a cushion at her face, “I spend enough time looking at you two drooling on each other.”
“Well you do keep--”
“This is our time, Haught. Best friend time. It’s sacred ok?” Wynonna said insistently, on the verge of shouting.
“Ok!” Nicole said almost jumping to attention.
“Let’s go!” Wynonna barked and practically ran out the door as Nicole headed after her. “Next time we’re getting matching hats,” Wynonna added over her shoulder. “I’ve always thought I’d look good in a Stetson,”
Nicole clambered into the passenger seat of the truck with an increasing sense of trepidation. Despite the ‘plan’, she had no idea what she was getting into aside from knowing that, whatever it was, she had agreed to it. Her phone was already blowing up with texts from Waverly who was desperate for an elaboration on Wynonna’s plan. Every time she glanced at the screen, Wynonna shot her an angry look and then, when she checked for the fifth time, she threatened to throw it out the window. Nicole knew from past experience that this was a threat Wynonna was more than ready to follow through on so instead she stared determinedly ahead, resolving to just trust that Wynonna knew what she was doing which, in a round about kind of way, she always did.
Eventually they pulled up outside a building that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a club. The only evidence of anything being inside was a faint pink glow oozing out from a closed fire exit. Wynonna looked more than excited to be there but Nicole felt that - wherever it was they were - she was not wearing the right clothes and she might not make it out an alive. An evening in with Waverly snuggled up rewatching ‘One Day at A Time’ seemed all the more appealing and all the more distant.
“Let’s go, Haught,” Wynonna slammed on the brake suddenly and Nicole had to work hard to stop her head from slamming into the dashboard. By the time she’d righted herself, Wynonna was already half way to the mysterious pink glowing door. “This should be right up your lesbo alley,” Wynonna said once Nicole had caught up with her, “It’s called The Glory Hole,” she said with an excited glint in her eye.
“You really have no concept of lesbian-ing, do you?” Nicole muttered but Wynonna had already crashed through the door. It opened onto a dingily lit corridor that clearly led to the source of the pink light. The hallway was deserted and the floor was sticky and Nicole had a sudden sense of what it was like to walk towards one’s execution. It was clear that Wynonna was more than familiar with this place and Nicole hoped that they were at the place in their friendship that she no longer wanted to kill her for sleeping with her sister and she wasn’t actually being led to her death. “What is this place anyway?” she asked, having to catch Wynonna’s arm to get her to listen.
“It’s a demon bar.”
“A what bar?”
“You heard me,” Wynonna said and sauntered up to the bar and leaned against it as if she did it every night which Nicole was beginning to suspect she did. An incredibly suave man met her at the bar. “You can go find a table, I’ve got it from here.” And she practically shoved Nicole away from her.
Nicole took advantage of Wynonna’s rejection of her and checked her phone. The messages from Waverly were almost uncountable: she’d even slid into her DMs on Twitter. By this point, she appeared to have resigned herself to never seeing Nicole again. Hurriedly, Nicole called her - shielding the phone from Wynonna’s view - “Hey baby… No, no, no, we’re good… You know what Wynonna’s like--” she spotted Wynonna heading towards her, “ok. I’ve got to go. Love you, bye.” and she slammed her phone down on the table.
“I see you, Haught. One more look at that phone and it goes in this pitcher.” Wynonna set down glasses and a pitcher filled with an alarmingly lurid cocktail.
“So that’s Amon huh?” Nicole said in a bid to distract her. “Does Doc know about him?”
“Oh Doc knows. I think he likes him more than I do.”
“Huh?”
“Amon isn’t even the best part,” Wynonna said, having already finished her first drink.
“I was really hoping you’d say that.”
“Come on!” Wynonna elbowed her, “I bet even you can see the appeal.”
Nicole shook her head, “Not even a little bit.”
“Your loss,” Wynonna said.
Nicole took a breath to launch into her much rehearsed explanation of lesbianism but was interrupted by the volume of the music increasing dramatically and spot lights being directed obnoxiously towards the stage. She had to blink several times to check that she wasn’t hallucinating the sight that met her: the curtains were pink and were folded in a way that meant that they could only possibly represent one thing. “Is that…?” she breathed.
“Oh yeah,” Wynonna grinned, “Just keep watching.”
Nicole had no idea what or who was going to come out of the curtain but she found that the nerves that had been plaguing her the entire evening were suddenly replaced with excitement; she suspected it had a lot to do with whatever was in the cocktail. The music reached its peak and the lips of the curtain to reveal Mercedes. Nicole spat out her drink in surprise and almost dislodged both her and Wynonna from the precarious bar stools.
“Told you it’d be good,” Wynonna said smugly.
“I mean, it’s certainly different. I haven’t seen her in so long…” Nicole spluttered, “this is not where I thought she’d have ended up. She’s not a revenant now is she?”
“Nope. She’s just doing what she can to survive. Just like everyone else.”
“You don’t need to tell me that,” Nicole said bitterly.
Wynonna winced, “too soon?”
“Just get me some pizza and we’ll be good.”
“Sure thing Haughty McHaughtface,” Wynonna raised her glass in her direction, “let’s just wait until her set’s finished.”
Nicole downed the remnants of her drink, “You’re the boss.”
Mercedes’ act was bizarre. Arguably she was very good at what she did but there’s always something a little bit odd in watching someone you know playing at being sexy. She was clearly pleased to see Wynonna though. And surprised to see Nicole. Once the act was over, her and Wynonna chatted enthusiastically as Nicole scrolled morosely through endless pictures of her and Waverly. Wynonna shot occasional death stares but Nicole knew she wouldn’t do anything with Mercedes there. At last the conversation ended when Mercedes had to go and get ready for next set and Nicole had to literally pull Wynonna away from the bar as she said goodbye to Amon. Her suggestion that they ask Waverly to pick them up was met with such a look that Nicole was surprised she survived it with her eyebrows in tact. This led to one of the tensest drives of Nicole’s life as she contemplated what would stop them first: a cop or a tree.
***
“Now this is the part that I was really looking forward to,” Nicole said. Her and Wynonna were sprawled in front of the couch at the Sheriff’s department. Several pizza boxes were on the floor between them and Wynonna had insisted Nicole unlock her office so they could enjoy some more ‘Waverly-free’ time. Nicole missed her intensely - even though it had only been one night - but she was glad of an excuse to delay explaining where they’d been for that little bit longer.
“I could tell. I got barely any of that pizza,” Wynonna smirked, “You better be running home!”
“Pfft. You held your own.”
“We should get pizza more often,” Wynonna said, licking her fingers.
“How about once a month?” Nicole grinned, “We tell Waverly we’re going out but really we just come here and eat pizza and drink beer.”
“You know what, Haught?” Wynonna took one last bit, “That sounds pretty darn good.”