Chapter Text
"Camping?"
"Yeah, camping! It'll be fun!"
"Camping. Fun."
"Oh, c'mon Waves, the fresh air, the clear water the-"
"Mosquitoes? Bears?"
"Fishing!"
"You fish?"
"I sure do," the redhead announced proudly, pulling herself up to her full height and straightening her shoulders.
"Hmm," Waverly cast her eyes down because, if she was honest with herself, the longer she looked into those sparkling brown eyes the easier and sooner she would give in. Of course she was going to give in, she could never say no to Nicole. Especially when she's acting like she is now; like an excited puppy. But, no, she doesn't have to give in just yet. She could-and should-make the girl work for it. But, camping? Waverly was a lot of things but outdoorsy wasn't one of them. Sure, she was athletic. She liked putting in a good aerobic work-out at the gym and, of course, there were her regular yoga classes. But, put her out in the woods or up on a mountain? Something always went wrong. Always.
The last time she'd camped was in high school as a senior. It was her and a bunch of the usual crowd from school mostly looking for an excuse to drink or get laid or whatever. Champ had gotten especially drunk one night and, in what he would later refer to as a feat of supreme strength, tossed a huge log into the fire causing an eruption of sparks and embers that alighted onto the stooped frame of one Waverly Earp, who was tending the camp stove nearby. Three years later and she could still find some uneven spots in the length of her hair.
Another time before that, she'd gone with Curtis on the opening day of deer hunting season. He'd wrapped her in one of his old hunting coats that hung several inches past her hands and a red and black plaid hat with floppy ear flaps. He'd brought along one of Ward's old rifles and tried to teach her to shoot. She remembered her body cramping up from crouching in the bushes for so long before a buck came into view. Suddenly, the thought of actually killing or even hurting this majestic creature was too much. Before she squeezed the trigger, she jogged the barrel of her rifle to the side. A pop and a loud hissing erupted in the distance, scaring the deer away to safety. When the weary hunters returned to their camp only to discover that Waverly's bullet had popped the front, driver-side tire, it had begun to rain. It took Uncle Curtis almost an hour to change the tire in the pouring rain and slippery mud and, when the next hunting season rolled around, he seemed positively relieved when Waverly refused to join him.
When she was younger, she remembered Willa telling her about the magical plant they would find upon arriving to their usual camping spot and how it could transform Waverly into a princess if she wove herself the perfect tiara from it. The poison ivy had spread rapidly from there. And, with Waverly being so young and small, Wade didn't want to take any chances and took her to the doctor for a shot.
Just to recall a few trips.
Camping.
Nicole was still talking, now sitting on the edge of Waverly's desk and pronouncing, "I'll make all of the arrangements, do all of the work, load all of the gear-"
Camping.
"And I'll catch fish and we can fry them up for dinner-"
Camping.
"And we can watch the sunset over the mountains and drink hot cocoa by the fire-."
"Fine."
"Fine?"
"Sure."
"Oh Wave," she smiled, jumping up and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's waist, "it's gonna be so great!"
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"Camping!" Wynonna snorted, almost choking on her beer.
"Yes."
"You? Camping?"
"I know."
"Whyyyy?"
"Because. Nicole."
"Oh, say no more, Officer Haughtstuff riding in on the Dimple Express...yep, no hope there."
"Yeah, exactly, and she's just so excited. I mean, she set up the tent in her apartment hallway to 'air it out', what does that even mean? You should have seen the way her neighbors were looking! She's, like, gone camping-crazy!"
"Does she know? About, you know, your disability?"
"No."
"Waves, you're like, the anti-camper! You're like...camp-zilla!
"Okay, Wy."
"That's it, I'm gonna check and see if I can buy you one of those human-sized plastic bubbles online, you know? For those allergy people? Like, John Travolta or whoever?"
"Shit pockets, Wynonna! Knock it off!"
"Suit yourself," she smirked, chugging the last of her beer.
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"Hey, baby," she heard Nicole call from the kitchen, "dinner'll be ready in a jiff!"
"Great, it smells amazing," Waverly smiled, dropping her purse onto the couch and slipping off her flats. Entering the kitchen, she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall admiring her girlfriend. Nicole was wearing an apron. Yes, a damn apron. It had the logo of the Toronto Raptors on it and she looked absolutely adorable with a towel tossed haphazardly over one shoulder. Her hair was in a sloppy ponytail and she was humming along to a song playing softly on the radio in the living room.
"Hey, you," she smiled, shuffling over to place a quick peck on Waverly's lips before scooting back to the stove.
"What'cha cookin', good lookin'?"
"Oh, just thought I'd cook somethin' special for our last night in civilization," she crooned.
"Nicole, it's only two nights."
"I know, I know," she smiled, turning off the burner and moving to wrap her arms around Waverly's waist. "But, I also know that you're not super excited about it," she leaned in, kissing the smaller woman's neck, "and I wanted to cook for you to say 'thank you'."
"I-uh, sure I am! Why would you think that?"
"Ha, Wave, c'mon!"
"I am excited!"
"Wave, when you're not moping around all zoned out, you look absolutely terrified like there's something lurking around every corner," Nicole grinned, rubbing her palms up and down the brunette's arms.
"Um, in my defense," she giggled, resting her head against Nicole's chest, "there literally are rev-heads around every darn corner."
"We don't have to go," the taller woman whispered, pressing a kiss to Waverly's hair.
"It's just, well, I haven't had a lot of success in the camping department over the years."
"Yeah, I kinda got the hint about that when I told Gus what we were getting up to this weekend and she spit coffee all over the sidewalk."
"It's a tragic history, mine," she sighed, holding her girlfriend tighter, "but I do want to go. With you."
"Everything's going to be okay, Waves, I'll keep you safe."
"Oh, yeah? You think I need protection?"
"No, I-uh, that's not what I meant-"
"Stop stammering, I'm kidding. Now," she smiled, popping up on her toes and kissing Nicole on the lips, "feed me, woman."
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The next morning, before it was even daylight outside, Waverly felt Nicole gently shaking her awake.
"Waves, wake up, truck's all loaded and ready to go!"
"Uhhh, s'early."
"It's only six."
"Only?"
By the time Waverly stumbled down the stairs outside Nicole's apartment, coffee in hand, Nicole was checking the ties on the load in the back of Gus's truck. Waverly stopped in her tracks, staring as the sunrise highlighted Nicole's sturdy frame. The well-fitted jeans, the soft flannel button-up, a ball cap.
Well, well, she thought, might not be such a bad trip, after all.
She continued down the steps as Nicole straightened, beaming at her and waving.
"Good morning, Miss Earp," she bowed, kissing Waverly's knuckles.
"And a good morning to you, Miss Haught," Waverly curtsied.
"Damn, you're so cute," Nicole chuckled, pressing a kiss to Waverly's lips and pecking her forehead with the bill of the hat by accident. "Whoops, sorry, baby," she said, pressing another kiss to her forehead.
Waverly froze, hand to her forehead.
"Oh, shoot, Wave, did I hurt you?"
"No, no, it's nothing."
"Well, c'mon then, let's skedaddle!"
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The drive was beautiful. Waverly propped her feet up on the dash, sipping her coffee happily and listening to Nicole sing along to a string of old country western songs she'd never heard of.
"I didn't know you were such a fan of country music," Waverly giggled.
"Just gotta set the mood, little lady," Nicole grinned, squeezing her girlfriend's thigh before cranking the volume up.
They arrived at the campground an hour-or-so later and checked in with the friendly, albeit possibly drunk, camp host. They found their site where the host had tacked a yellow sign with the words, 'Reserved – Hot' written in black marker. Waverly couldn't suppress a giggling fit while Nicole just smiled and shook her head.
"It's cute."
"It's...something."
True to her word, Nicole unloaded the truck and began setting up their supplies. Meanwhile, Waverly meandered her way to the nearby creek, camera in hand, snapping pictures. By the time she returned, Nicole was just finishing setting the tent up. Waverly marveled. On all of her previous trips to the mountains, setting up the tent was a tiresome right of passage, fraught with missteps and cursing and a struggle to keep your wits intact. Nicole seemed to have managed it with ease and confidence. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised, this is how Nicole approached everything in her life, it seemed. Even her pursuit and courtship with Waverly had been patient and effortless. It had happened so fluid and natural and Waverly smiled at the memory, snapping a picture as Nicole stood, hands on hips, assessing the tent and her victory with a satisfied smile.
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Nicole didn't just fish. Nicole was a flyfisherwoman. As with most things about Nicole, Waverly wasn't surprised that she was always a step above her expectations. Watching her, a look of pure concentration on her face, Waverly was enraptured by the sight of her—hip-waders on, deep in the stream—casting her line and whipping it back, the fly skimming elegantly across the water, the line catching the sunlight and shining almost as bright as Waverly's smile. The sweat-stained cowboy hat that Nicole now donned was tipped back, resting high on her forehead.
The proud feeling swelling in Waverly's chest was soon replaced by an unexpected arousal. It was as if Nicole was performing a delicate seduction. Just her versus the fish. The water. Nature. She was definitely in her element. Waverly sat, slack jawed, on a rock and watched the muscles in Nicole's arm flex and relax with every cast.
Later, back at the camp, Nicole was pulling her limit of fish from her creel when Waverly—sitting crossed legged on a round of wood—asked, "So, who taught you to fish?"
"Hmm? Oh, uh," she replied, "my grandpa." She'd already cleaned and gutted the fish at the creek and now proceeded to set the cast-iron skillet above the fire on a blackened grill.
"That was pretty amazing," Waverly supplied, pulling the wool blanket tight about her shoulders, "he must be a damn good fisherman!"
"Yeah, he was. He's passed," Nicole replied, settling the fish on the pan to cook.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Waverly frowned, kicking herself mentally.
"No worries. It's been a while. Almost ten years now. He was a great man Basically, raised me. He and my grandma."
"She still around?"
"Yeah. Texas."
"Wow, you're a long way from home."
"In a way, I suppose," Nicole said, deep in thought, "but I'd like to think I've made my own home here," she looked up at Waverly, smiling, "with you."
Waverly mumbled something.
"What was that?" Nicole asked.
"Oh, I, uh, was just thinking, you know, that explains the sexy accent."
"Sexy?"
"Yeah, I mean, I never would have thought Texans would be...sexy, but, well."
Nicole laughed and Waverly's heart swelled.
"And your height."
"What?"
"Well, don't they make things...bigger? In Texas?"
They both hooted with laughter and Nicole stood up and took a seat on the round of wood beside Waverly. "Indeed," she winked, pressing a kiss into the brunette's waiting lips.
They sat in silence for a few moment, Nicole standing occasionally to flip the fish. "Should only take a couple more minutes," she said.
"Was that...difficult?"
"What's that?"
"You know, being gay...in Texas?"
"Well, it wasn't dandy," she grimaced, "but once I started college in Austin, it was very different. Austin's a bit, well, more open-minded."
"Mm," Waverly replied, gazing into the flames of the fire.
The fish were fantastic and they both ate in amiable silence. When Waverly went to suck the greasiness from her fingertips, she caught Nicole staring. She felt her heartbeat begin to ramp-up and her extremities tingle with anticipation right before a bolt of lightning flashed across the darkening sky followed by an almost deafening crack of thunder.
"What the hell," Nicole spat, jumping up. Another bolt tore across the sky. "I swear, I checked the weather this weekend. Didn't see anything about this!"
Suddenly, the rain started to fall—the droplets sizzling against the hot embers in the fire pit. Waverly ducked under the blanket, holding it over her head, as Nicole rushed to gather her paper plate and fork, tossing the remainders of their meal into a plastic garbage bag nearby and tugging on a rope to hoist the trash up into the bows of a tree. "Bears," she explained to Waverly's questioning look, tying off the rope before grabbing Waverly's wrist and tugging her toward the tent.