Work Text:
I want to marry you. Nicole thinks as she watches Waverly throw her head back in laughter, hazel eyes crinkling into crescent moons, face aglow—the dipping sun reaching its orange hues across the planes of her smile, the breeze caressing her long hair as it falls down her shoulders in waves of cascading softness and Nicole can only sigh, lips pulling into a fond smile as she tucked away the thought in her chest, letting it warm her inside.
It wasn’t the time for that-- they still have a curse to break, Wynonna is still stressing about who is the father of her unexpected pregnancy, they still have revenants to kill, and it hasn’t been a year since she and Waverly got together.
It wasn’t the time for that but Nicole knows she means it with every fiber of her being. She knows, without a second thought nor any doubt that it’s Waverly who she wants to spend the rest of her life with.
It just wasn’t the time for that… not yet.
I want to marry you. Nicole thinks, not for the first time, as she lies in a hospital bed, the excruciating pain of an unknown venom coursing through her veins. Waverly has her hands in a tight grasp, tears streaming down her face as watery hazel eyes plead for Nicole to “wait, please baby, please wait. Wynonna and I will find an antidote, just please wait” laying soft kisses on their adjoined hands, the fate of one of their lives held by a vindictive entity.
But Nicole knows they’ll pull through, they always do, and Nicole still has plans to marry this beautiful girl in front of her. Yet, the fear of the unknown is sending doubts to trill down her spine—she already cheated death twice, she doesn’t know if she can still escape it a third time.
She nods—just to assuage Waverly’s trepidation, not wanting to exacerbate her growing distress—so she nods, pulling their hands tighter together, squeezing Waverly’s palms firmly in hers, branding an unspoken I love you as she tells Waverly that she hasn’t loved anyone like she loved her when all she wants to say is,
I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as you want me. Because I love you—I love you and I still want to marry you.
But it wasn’t the time for that… not yet.
I want to marry you. Nicole thinks, like a broken record, the same song playing on a loop, the same thought crossing her mind, the same sentiment that makes the butterflies in her stomach grow feral—she wants to marry Waverly and this is the third time she’s thought of that. The third time her mind sprung the idea unexpectedly. The third time she felt secure about her commitment to this amazing woman.
But she can’t. she still can’t say it. It’s still not the time. Because Waverly is hunched over a tome, a dead language undecipherable to those who aren’t adept to its arts, a mug of tea wafting curling steams above the porcelain, hand coming up to rub at the sleep on soft hazel eyes as the cold of the homestead’s unreliable insulation tried to penetrate the hoodie engulfing Waverly’s form. It’s still not the time, no matter how soft and pretty Waverly looks engulfed in Nicole’s old police academy sweater, no matter how perfectly the light of the fireplace casts a romantic ambience—the flames dancing and bathing them in a warm glow, no matter how unrelentless the butterflies in her stomach are.
It’s still not the time because they’re still searching for ways on how to defeat Bulshar. They still have a million things to think about before marriage becomes an acceptable topic of discussion. There’s still the question of Waverly’s true lineage.
So she settles down beside her, leans her head on Waverly’s shoulder, places a soft kiss on her skin, breathes out a quiet I love you, and lets her arms wrap securely around Waverly’s waist.
It’s still not the time… not yet.
I want to marry you. Nicole opens her mouth to say the words, closes it again when nothing came out. She drew Waverly in closer, nosing along her hair as Waverly asks her the events that transpired between her and Jolene. Jolene, she thought bitterly, slight anger thrumming under her chest as she remembers the things that old witch put Waverly through, but she casted it aside in favor of peppering Waverly’s face with kisses, that cute little smile she loves so much gracing the pink of Waverly’s lips.
I want to marry you. She thinks as she stares at Waverly’s hazel eyes, the light in them dancing along to the beat of Nicole’s heart. I want to marry you, I want to marry you, I want to marry you, she tasted in her tongue, the words threatening to burst free from her throat.
I want to marry you, but instead she told Waverly to update her later, swallowing Waverly’s infectious smile and her words that are begging to be let out into a kiss—heart beating a rapid rhythm and chest warm with affection.
I want to marry you.
But not now... not yet.
I want to marry you. Nicole thinks, yet unable to utter the words as Waverly looks at her earnestly, softly, lovingly as professions of love fell between those pink lips.
I want to marry you. She thinks as Waverly slides that ugly and bulky ring on her finger, the weight of her promise a comforting pressure in Nicole’s heart.
I want to marry you, too. But instead, she told Waverly how much she hates Julian’s ring and before she could rectify her statement into something deserving of Waverly, something that will finally resemble her unspoken desire, or better yet, something that sounds a lot like an agreement—Wynonna shouted for them inside and—
There was no more time.
I want to marry you. I want to marry you. I still want to be married to you. I want to be tied to you. I love you and yes, I want to marry you—so much. Nicole sobs, the absence of that retched ring carving a hollow in her chest, the emptiness she feels without Waverly (nor Wynonna, nor Doc, nor Jeremy, nor Nedley) by her side yawning into an abyss of numbness and yearning.
She has Rachel by her side, yes and she appreciates the teenager a whole lot but she misses Waverly so much.
So much that it’s starting to physically hurt.
I want to marry you. She whimpers in her sleep, the quiet of the night pierced only by the sobs that seem to grow worse by the minute.
She wishes she didn’t wait that long anymore. She wishes Waverly was there beside her.
I miss you.
I love you.
I want to marry you.
But she can’t tell Waverly that anymore because Waverly’s no longer here.
I want to marry you. She mouths against Waverly’s lips—18 months, 3 weeks, and 4 days later yet her stance hasn’t change. Not one bit.
That familiar smile curved against her mouth and Nicole almost tensed in fear of Waverly understanding what she tried to convey but Waverly only laughed, biting her lip playfully, kissing her back and swallowing any worry Nicole has.
Because even though Nicole still wants to marry Waverly, even though she badly wants to spend the rest of her life with her, she can’t. She no longer can.
She’s living on borrowed time and she doesn’t know if Waverly will forgive once she learns what Nicole did in a desperate attempt to get her back.
Nicole is weak. She failed her friends. She failed the love of her life. Because she’s weak and made herself a deal with the devil and now she doesn’t know if she can take to see the look on Waverly’s face once she learns what she did.
She’s weak and pathetic but she can’t really dwell on that right now because Waverly’s finally here, Waverly’s finally home—wrapped up in Nicole’s arms, the haze of their reunion still clinging against their skin, the softness of her touch lighting a fire on Nicole’s skin and making the embers in her heart catch fire until the warmth of her love for this woman, for Waverly Earp—half-angel and half-human and extraordinary in every way that matters and don’t—warms her in a way that it hasn’t for a long time.
The cold of her absence was chased away by the fire of their reunion and Nicole thinks, I want to marry you.
But she can’t. Not anymore. Regardless of how much she wants to tell Waverly yes (almost two-long years overdue, but no less earnest and true) she can’t.
It’s not the time anymore and she feels like it never will be.
I want to marry you. Nicole opens her mouth to finally say those words but Waverly immediately cut her off, squeezing Nicole’s arm and uttering a quiet “let me” with tears already gathering around her hazel eyes and god Nicole loves her so much.
She looks almost ethereal against the warm glow of the fire place, their little ragtag of a family gathered around with drinks and brimming with anticipation. Waverly looks so beautiful with the tears in her eyes and the unbridled love that shines through her smile that Nicole knew she would give this woman everything if she asked for it.
Waverly got down on one knee and Nicole felt the pounding of her heart grow more rapidly as the butterflies in her stomach intensifies their fluttering until she could feel her fingers tingling in anticipation and zeal. It feels surreal, being here and knowing she can finally say what she wants to say all these years. The tears pooled in her eyes, the love shining through the glassy film and when Waverly uttered the words, “Nicole Haught, will you marry me?” Nicole didn’t hesitate and let free the words she had caged for years inside her heart, “yes—yes, I will marry you!” and got down on her knees to pull the love of her life into a searing kiss, branding an unspoken I love you in the way their lips met in a familiar dance and their tears mingled with their smiles.
When Waverly pulled back to cheer a quietly endearing little “yay” against her mouth, Nicole can’t help herself but look at Waverly in wonder, the love she feels for the woman in her arms pouring out in the form of the tears still cascading down her cheeks and the unrestrained smile tearing her lips.
And when the sweetest declaration of an “I love you” from Waverly settled comfortably between them, Nicole met it with a vow of her own— an “I love you too” that holds the weight of a thousand promises.
I’m going to marry you. We’re going to get married. Nicole thinks and she lets herself whisper those words against Waverly’s lips—the sweetest smile pulling at her cheeks.
it was the time for that… it was the time for them… finally.
