Chapter Text
“You can’t be serious.”
Nic sighs. She’s been on the phone to Eliza for a while now and the woman is like a dog with a bone. The deputy had previously put this time aside to wallow in self-pity and relive Waverly’s look of horror at sharing a kiss and instead she’s stuck on the phone with her friend. That’ll teach her for answering the phone on her day-off.
Nic had been dodging Eliza’s phone calls for weeks now but this afternoon she received an accompanying threatening text.
If you don’t pick up, Haught, I’ll come and bust down your door myself. I’m not kidding.
She’s failed to take Eliza seriously before and been made to pay for it. She won’t make the same mistake twice.
So this time she picked up on the first ring.
The thing is, she loves Eliza. She’s not even really sure why she’s been dodging her calls.
Maybe because she felt guilty that she’d received a sympathy text from Xavier’s wife on his anniversary. It should’ve been the other way round.
Regardless, she’s not going to risk having the woman come all the way to Purgatory to blow up her spot. She can give her the courtesy of answering a phone call.
Except when Eliza had eventually asked about when she’d be returning from this latest assignment, Nic, perhaps due to her current distraction, hadn’t been able to hide her hesitation. When she eventually floated the idea of maybe extending her stay, Eliza had been shocked.
“You can’t be serious,” she exclaims.
Uh oh.
“It’s not so bad here, Liz,” she tries.
“You’re in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and you haven’t seen us for months. Now you want to permanently move there?”
Well, she’d been seriously considering it. She knew Nedley was thinking about retiring, and he’d dropped enough hints about the position needing a bit more than Lonnie could provide. Nic could read between the lines.
And then there was Waverly. Waverly who makes hobbies out of ancient languages and the local penal code, for whom crop tops appear to have been invented, who has quietly made herself a fixture in Nic’s life.
Her panicked face flashes unbidden across Nic’s memory. Ugh. Waverly who had kissed her for a glorious few moments before panicking and running for the hills.
She swipes a hand across her face. “I don’t know, Liz.”
“Tell me why.”
Eliza knows Nic doesn’t just say things to say them or do things to do them. She’s a sensible person. There has to be a reason.
Nic doesn’t want to say she met someone. She hasn’t yet admitted it to herself. It’s far too soon. But these people and this town have gotten under her skin. Sure it was a rocky start, and she wouldn’t have guessed she’d grow to like it here, but she has.
Another smaller part of her remembers her state of mind when she arrived here. She ran from the city, from the memory of her partner, and she didn’t once look back.
“I bought a bike. I’m woodworking again. Calamity is settled.” It’s all true but together they form a half-truth. She can’t imagine it will satisfy Eliza but it’s the best she’s got right now.
“The kids miss you.” Eliza is not above using her children for emotional manipulation.
Nic smiles at the mention of them, her voice softening. “How are they?”
The rest of the conversation is spent in the neutral waters of catching up and Nic is grateful. She thinks she’s gotten away with it until Eliza grows silent on the other end. Nic would think she’s hung up if not for the faint sounds of the kids playing in the background.
“You know you don’t have to punish yourself, right? For- for what happened?”
Nic sucks in a sharp breath. She doesn’t know how to respond to that.
“If you’re isolating yourself, as- as some kind of penance, I am telling you, as Xavier’s wife and the mother of his children, that you do not have to.”
Nic won’t lie and say there wasn’t some measure of that kind of thinking that helped her make the decision of where she’d be taking her transfer. Remote, distant; perfect. But that’s not what’s motivating her. Not anymore, at least.
“I promise, Liz. It’s not.”
Eliza huffs. “Better not be.” She adds, a whisper, “I don’t want that. And he wouldn’t want that either."
“I know.”
He was a frustratingly good man. She wishes she could ask him what he’d do in her shoes.
Would he stay or would he go?
But underneath everything, his tough exterior and no-nonsense attitude, he was a bleeding heart romantic. He married the woman he trained beside in the academy. Said he knew she was the one when she beat him in a pull up competition.
She knows exactly what he’d do. And that scares the shit out of her.
When they hang up, Nic feels like she got away with something. Little does she know these two worlds will converge sooner rather than later.
So Nic has been giving Waverly space. It’s been a week since she got an after-work beer at Shorty’s. She’s at Pussy Willows now, keeping the tradition alive. It’s a poor substitution, really, and the place just serves to remind her of what went down to land her in this mess.
She thinks about texting Waverly but she’s scared to find out she's been blocked.
She wonders if Eliza is right. Maybe buttfuck nowhere isn't the place to make a home. What would Nic know about making a home anyway? She’s a former foster kid who tried once and failed spectacularly.
She groans, deciding to remove herself from the bar before she exacerbates this spiral with alcohol. She leaves the drink unfinished. She’s got an ornery cat to feed.
When she arrives home, she decides to pull her head out of her ass. Cook something for herself that isn’t a shitty frozen meal. Light a candle. Put a record on. Something light and easy. Nothing in a minor key.
As she falls asleep that night, she isn’t so daunted about the idea of doing it all again tomorrow.
Eliza is tired.
She’s been driving for hours and she can’t feel her ass anymore. She is reminded of stake-outs with her old partner and how they were vastly improved when she shed her vanity and started bringing a donut pillow along. Instead of mocking her, her partner did the same. It’s a secret neither have shared with anyone else. They’ll take it to their respective graves. It’s the partner code.
She pulls into a park and prays this place has a halfway decent coffee machine. Who is she kidding? When has a police station had anything potable?
She exits the vehicle, cracking her neck while her ass tries to resurrect itself.
As she enters the station, she’s immediately hit with a sense of the surreal. This place feels less like real-life and more like something out of a movie. Yellowed walls bracket the place, an overworked fan stands shakily in the corner, and a man at reception appears to have been caught picking his nose and is now trying poorly to cover it up. He’s itching his nose exaggeratedly, forgetting that he should’ve probably thrown out a greeting to the newcomer by now.
Nic steps out of her office, head in a file. “Hey Lonnie, what can you tell me about-”
She looks up to the sound of incredulous laughter and realizes she’s staring down the barrel of a phone camera.
Eliza is grinning ear to ear. “My god, you’re wearing an honest to god cowboy hat, I can’t believe it.”
“Lizzy!” Nic blushes, raising a self-conscious hand to her Stetson. “Wha- what are you doing here?”
Eliza stops snapping pictures and puts her phone in her backpocket. The fact that she can feel it is a good sign that her ass is in fact still in working order. “Winnie and Duke miss their favorite aunt.”
“Has Shae gone on holiday?”
Eliza scoffs. “As if she was ever the favorite.”
“Where are they then?” Nic asks. They’re not in their usual place; that is, underfoot. And if Eliza is here, Winn and Duke can’t be far behind.
“Asleep in their car seats. Don’t worry, I cracked a window.”
Nic narrows her eyes. Eliza wouldn’t leave her young children in the car, even though it’s in sight just outside the glass doors.
She frowns. “You’re seeing someone.” She’s not going to judge her for moving on, but it’s still a shock.
Eliza shakes her head. Xavier was the love of her life. They had two beautiful babies together. She’s not- “You’d have been a shit detective, I can see why you were a beat cop for so long.”
Nic scoffs. “Cut the shit, Liz.”
“I brought Shae with me. She’s in the car with them.”
“What the hell!”
“Hey, at least I left her in the car! She wanted to come in!”
Nic passes a hand across her face. “And tell me why my ex-wife decided to tag along?”
“You weren’t replying to my messages. I didn’t know how I was gonna find you.”
Nic is fuming. But just for a moment. Then she’s just embarrassed. She remembers the states Eliza has found her in. Crying into a glass. Snoring next to her own vomit. Staring blankly at a wall.
“We talked on the phone yesterday?”
“I didn’t think you were going to pick up. We had already planned on coming here. Plus, that conversation didn’t exactly instil confidence.”
Eliza softens her voice. “You know what happened last time. We were worried.”
Nic looks down at her feet, ashamed.
Last time was rock bottom. She ignored every phone call, text message, knock on the door. She’d closed every curtain in the house. Isolated herself. And drank. Drank until she forgot what it felt like to have your best friend take their last breath in your arms.
“Can I get a hug?” Eliza asks.
Nic relents, accepting her embrace. She’s not angry. A heads up might’ve been nice. Although she probably would’ve just freaked out.
“Shae is seeing someone,” Eliza mutters into her ear. “But don’t worry she’s a hag, absolutely hideous.”
Nic laughs as they separate.
“Shae’s gonna take the kids to the hotel and get us settled in.”
“And you are gonna buy me a drink and explain to me why the hell you wanna stay in this shithole town.”
“Why am I at a strip club right now?”
Eliza thinks a polite enough amount of time has passed—they’re seated at the bar and have ordered—and thus she’s now entitled to ask.
“It’s a long-“
One scantily dressed dancer walks by. “Hey Deputy, how’s the baby”
Eliza raises an eyebrow.
“-story.” She coughs. The dancer’s gone before Nic can even answer the question.
The bartender places their drinks before them and Eliza is looking at her expectantly. Nic doesn’t know where to begin.
“Please don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with a stripper,” Eliza says.
Nic splutters.
“And don’t lecture me about sex work. I just mean it’s a bit of a small-town cop cliche.”
Nic groans. “I’m not in love with a stripper.”
“Thank god.”
“I actually think it might be worse?” she says.
She can’t help it. She unloads the whole thing. When she finishes, Eliza is looking at her with unrestrained humor.
She starts laughing.
“Oh shut up.” Nic blushes, but it’s not long before she’s laughing too.
Eliza calms down and eventually nudges shoulders with her friend. “You wanting to stay makes a little more sense now.”
Nic groans. “I don’t know anymore.”
“Pfft,” Eliza dismisses.
“Did you forget the part where she kissed me and ran as far as she could in the other direction?”
Eliza shrugs. “You’ve just gotta talk to her. Especially if you’re seriously thinking about staying.”
Nic sighs. Her friend is right.
“Alright, Deputy. I told Shae you’d take her out for breakfast tomorrow so you better get a good night’s sleep.”
“What? Eliza! Seriously?”
Nic arrives to June’s early and orders their drinks, easily recalling how Shae takes her coffee.
When her ex-wife walks in, Nic is glad to realize seeing her doesn’t feel like the punch in the gut she thought it would.
“Eliza warned me about the hat and yet it’s still a shock,” she says in lieu of a normal greeting. Classic Shae. The deputy finds she’s happy to learn she hasn’t changed. The woman looks as beautiful and put together as she always did.
“Hello Shae, long time no see,” she says, ignoring the comment.
Her ex-wife was never one to beat around the bush, always preferring to skip small-talk and get straight down to business. She was confident and sure. Nic remembers fumbling through a pick-up line in the club and when they stumbled into Shae’s apartment later that night, she understood it was because Shae was calling the shots. She was just along for the ride.
“Eliza’s worried about you.” To the point. Efficient.
“I know, we talked last night.”
Shae levels her with a piercing look. Nic feels transparent under her gaze.
“I’m worried, too, Nic. I still care about you.”
Nic rolls her eyes. “That’s no longer in the job description.”
“Fuck the job description. You can’t honestly say you wouldn’t worry about me.”
Of course, Nic would. But that’s a hypothetical that’s not really worth entertaining. Shae will always land on her feet. She’s a highly capable, well-adjusted, well-supported woman. Nic is a former foster kid with complex PTSD.
“This isn’t a cry for help,” Nic defends.
“Nic, you literally moved to a town called Purgatory.”
She blushes. “Ok, I know what it looks like-”
“Do you? Cos to me it looks like you moved here to wither away and die alone.”
Did she?
Nic thinks about how she was forced to transfer but given the courtesy of choosing where. When she saw the name of the place, she laughed aloud for the first time in months.
But by the time it came to move, she was already in a better headspace. Making decisions, signing the divorce papers, working on her gun recertification.
Shae is right though. Or she was. But she’s better now. Or at least trying to be.
Nic grabs Shae’s hand above the table top.
“I won’t lie and say I’m all better now. But I’m not in the same place I was when you last saw me. I promise.”
They stand and share a long hug in the middle of the quiet diner. It’s nice and Nic is surprised by the warmth she feels from her ex. She suddenly feels like she should apologize.
“And for what it’s worth. I’m truly sorry, Shae.” The woman didn’t expect that. “I know I’ve said it before but you deserved better.”
Shae shakes her head. “You were in a dark place. I’m sorry, too. I could’ve stayed.”
Nic shakes her head. She was miserable. Angry, resentful, in pain. She pushed Shae away. She doesn’t get to be surprised that she left.
Nic smiles and the women retake their seats. “So, tell me about this girl.”
Shae grows pink as she gushes about the new woman in her life.
While Shae and Nic meet for breakfast, Eliza takes the kids to the park. It consists of a crappy swing and a see-saw in a field, but it’ll do. Winn runs ahead while her little brother valiantly tries to keep up. She smiles as her daughter turns around and encourages Duke along.
She looks for a place to sit and supervise when she notices the nearby bench is already occupied by a young woman. Street policing, then motherhood, helped to shed her self-consciousness, and while she’d have preferred the seat to herself, she’s not gonna let an occupant scare her away. As she nears, she realizes the woman has a small newborn slung across her chest. She’s also wearing tight jeans and a leather jacket, items not usually found in the wardrobes of new moms. It makes her smile. When she arrives, she realizes the woman is crying quietly.
She takes a seat and reaches into her hand bag for a packet of tissues. She always made sure to have some on hand in the days and months following Xavier’s passing. As she offers them to her seatmate, she realizes she hasn’t needed them in a while. Her hand falters as the thought knocks over the head. Thankfully, the woman doesn’t seem to notice. She accepts the offering gratefully.
Eliza recovers and clears her throat. “You ok?”
The woman wipes her tears quickly. “Uh, yeah. God, my hormones are off the charts right now.”
Eliza smiles. “Yea I remember that.”
She sits next to her, just a body to share the silence with, while she watches her kids.
The woman sniffles quietly. “I- She was an accident,” she freely admits, nodding to the baby on her chest. “Her dad and I, we only went out once. He made me laugh, paid for my drinks, got me off twice and then again the next mornin’.”
Eliza splutters and the woman continues unaffected. “He wasn’t interested when I called and told him I was pregnant. I mean, he had given me his number for the next time he was in town, not for- for this.“
Baby, I ain’t no daddy, he had said. Stupid sexy moustache.
“Since I had her I ain' t been able to stop lookin’ at her. She's fuckin’ perfect.”
Eliza nods. Remembers that too. How Xavier and her would lie on either side of their babies and look on adoringly. Hours passed easily in their little bubble.
“And- and I ain’t always get it right the first time. Or the second. If I weren’t given third and fourth chances, I’d be long gone from this town. I don’t have a fuckin’ leg to stand on, you know?” She’s a fuck-up but she’s workin’ on it. Got herself a reason.
“So I messaged him this big spiel: Your daughter was born a week ago. 6 lb 7 oz. She’s beautiful. You can meet her. No strings, no judgment.” She sighs. “Didn’t even ask for money. Just asked him to see her and know her. To love her. Easy.” It’s been the easiest thing the woman’s ever done; surrendering her heart to the girl. “It can be that fuckin’ easy if you let it. Just this once.”
She looks down at the sleepin’ child. “She’s already got so much love; cousins and aunts. But you can’t have too much. That ain’t a thing. My own dad was a fuckin’ drunk asshole. At least this guy seemed nice. She has his eyes. Baby blue.” She places a quick kiss on the top of her head.
“He didn’t come,” she finishes. “Stood her up.” Stood me up. She roughly wipes away fresh tears. “Motherfucker. I swear I’m not usually like this.”
Eliza doesn’t know what to say. She’s been told she’s standoffish, unapproachable. It's not often strangers confide in her. She’s always understood she doesn’t have the face for it with her sharp features and tense shoulders.
Her kids' laughter trails over from the playground. She wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. “He’s an idiot,” she says firmly.
The woman laughs at her serious tone. She blows her nose with little care for decorum. It might’ve shocked Eliza if raising two children didn’t make her immune to such displays.
The woman clears her throat, finally calming. “Shit, I don’t know why I’m cryin’ in front of a stranger.”
Eliza shrugs. “I’m from out of town, you can tell me anything and you’ll never see me again.”
They share a laugh.
“Well, same goes for you then,” the woman says.
And perhaps out-of-character for the out-of-town woman, Eliza decides to take her up on the opportunity. She starts with her realization this morning; that she doesn’t cry when she thinks of her dead husband anymore.
And so they sit and trade stories without the weight of pasts, presents and futures upon their shoulders, and morning rolls into afternoon.
By the time Eliza leaves, she realizes she didn't even catch her name.
Nic flings the door of Shorty’s open, wincing at the sound it makes as it bangs against the wall. Ok, that may have been over-zealous but she can’t dwell on it or she’ll lose courage. She will not be going to Pussy Willows after each shift anymore. She’ll be coming here again. And she's decided Waverly at least deserves a heads up about that. This town is big enough for the both them.
Oh god, she hopes she doesn’t say that. Sometimes lame jokes slip out when she’s nervous.
“Waverly, we need to talk.”
Shorty’s isn’t officially open yet and the youngest Earp is sitting at a table in the corner; books splayed before her. She doesn’t appear to have heard Nic’s entrance judging by the fact that she hasn't looked up. That takes the wind out of the deputy’s sails a little. Waverly is surrounded by empty cans of redbull and she’s furiously typing on an ancient, whirring laptop.
“Waves? Are you ok?” Nic softens as she approaches. Her eyes travel to the documents that cover the table.
Waverly appears flustered, eyes wide and hands shaking. “I’ve got a test comin’ up. Think I bit off more ‘n I can chew with this course.”
Nic realizes Waverly is anxious. So anxious she’s forgotten about the fact they haven’t been talking.
“I don’t know who I thought I was,” she mutters as she flips through her notes.
Nic pulls up a chair and reaches for some paper. She begins to fold it in half and then half again. Her easy smile confuses the Earp. Nic reaches carefully over Waverly and the girl doesn't know if she wants to slap her hand away or cling to it to keep from drowning. The deputy grabs a nearby pair of scissors, careful to shield the blades in her hand as she brings them back across her. "Alright," Nic says cheerfully. She begins to cut the paper. “I always found flashcards to be helpful.”
Nic decides to save their chat for another day.