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“Heeeeelp!!”
There had to be someone in this forest, right? That’s what you did when you were in danger, you screamed for help and someone came and helped you. Right? She really couldn’t be the only one out here. Could she?
“Hellllllllpp!!”
Waverly crashed through the underbrush, fighting against the steadily growing anxiety already thundering through her body. She couldn’t stop running. The angry humming behind her hadn’t eased and it propelled her through the dense trees.
How do I even get myself into these things?
She spared a quick glance over her shoulder at the mass of swarming bees at her heels and almost went down over a log in her way, barely managing to awkwardly leap it, thankfully only losing a little bit of her speed.
Just had to go after that manuscript, didn’t you, Earp? Had to prove to BBD you could handle the big important cases, all on your own. Just had to go poking around into that big rotting tree because the map said. Maybe we are as gullible as Wynonna thinks. What, just because the map says, we had to do it? What if the map said jump off a cliff? What if-
Her internal scouring was interrupted by the absence of trees in front of her as she broke through into a small clearing and someone’s tidy campsite at speed, the redheaded woman she ran past equally as surprised by her sudden appearance there as Waverly was. The woman’s eyes widened almost comically when she took in the buzzing, swarming mass behind her, taking several steps back before she pointed, Waverly unconsciously moving to follow the way she indicated. She heard the woman yell as she broke back into the woods on the other side of the clearing.
“Run to the river, go to the river!”
Waverly gained what speed she could on the uneven ground, clawing branches and leaves from her view as she searched for the elusive solution the woman had just given her.
OK, this is going to suck balls, but you can do it, Earp.
“Allonsy!!”
Waverly sprinted for the river’s edge, launching herself into space and as far out into the water as her springboard legs would carry her. The water broke over her body like an icy slap, the cold rushing to drag the air from her lungs and she gasped under the water as it closed over her head. She forced herself to stay under as long as she could stand, her arms clutched tight around a heavy stone at the river’s bottom.
Just a little bit longer. They’ll have to be gone.
When at last her lungs could take no more, Waverly popped to the surface like a cork, pulling great gouts of oxygen into her starved tissues, the rest of her body fighting to keep her above the modest current. She took two breaths before she looked up and saw the swarm preparing to dive-bomb her again; she sucked in a quick lungful of air and forced herself back under the surface, the cold water against her scalp sending racing goosebumps down her spine and across her skin.
Can’t do this too much longer, I’m going to give myself hypothermia. In August. Just like an Earp. Fuck.
Only when her lungs are burning does she let herself go back to the surface, dismayed the bees haven’t given up their quarry until she hears that voice, broken up between the rush of the river but she figured out the gist as she let the current pull her under.
“Go downstream, underwater!”
Why she hadn’t thought of doing that already Waverly was only going to chalk up to the anxiety and the chemicals that were already pumping through her system to combat the dozen or more bee-stings she knew she sustained in her flight from the giant hive in the old tree.
Waverly let the current take her as far as her air lasted, surfacing and clawing her way to the river’s edge only when it was dire, sputtering and hacking as she went. She collapsed against the first somewhat dry rock, too tired to even look for the bees. She listened with her eyes closed, but didn’t hear anything beyond her own harsh panting in her ears, the rush of the water and the crunch of rapidly approaching footsteps against loose stone.
“Ohmygodareyouok?”
Gentle but strong hands tucked themselves under her arms and then she was being turned over, a bleary shape above her darting in and out of her field of vision. She was exhausted, but alright, if she could just catch her breath to say so. The redhead’s face came suddenly closer and Waverly blinked at two concerned brown eyes, actively searching her face for a reaction.
Waverly moved her head somewhere between a nod and a shake and then coughed, the woman immediately bracing her with an arm behind her back and another on her shoulder as her violent coughing bent her nearly in half, the last bit of the river calling itself back.
She took in a deep breath in a whoosh and leaned a little into the arms supporting her before she remembered the bees and attempted to scramble to her feet. The redhead held up her hands, seemingly understanding her panic.
“Its ok, they’re gone. I’ve got you, you’re ok.”
Waverly sat back down, not caring how inelegantly, and let her body slump.
“Oh thank Aristaeus. I did not want to go that way.”
The redhead crouched next to the rock.
“Aristaeus?”
Waverly coughed into her elbow and made a vague hand motion toward the redhead.
“Greek god of beekeeping.”
The redhead let out a surprised chuckle and sank back on her heels.
“That’s a reference to pull after getting chased into a river by bees. Not your everyday normal occurrence.”
Waverly pushed at the hair stuck to her face that had escaped her braid and shrugged.
“You could say I often find myself having extra-normal occurrences.”
The redhead lifted an eyebrow.
“Well now I’m interested for sure, but how about we get you a bit drier and a lot warmer?”
Waverly smiled at the redhead as she rose, the long legs emerging from her summer shorts putting her several inches above the brunette’s eye line and a tiny part of Waverly’s brain logged the information away.
“Follow me back to the campsite and I’ll see if I can’t find you a towel.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.” She tried and failed to keep her teeth from chattering as she spoke, the cold of the water deep in her bones.
The redhead gave her an empathetic smile and turned away, picking her way back up the river’s edge toward her clearing. Waverly followed, half of her focus on not tripping over the uneven rocks, half on the intriguing woman in front of her.
She studied the redhead as they walked the distance back to camp, taking in the easy way the woman moved through the woods, her unconcerned air with the variable sounds of the forest, the easy way she stepped over felled trees and debris in her way. Everything the woman did was with the air of being carefully deliberate and Waverly felt the calm her actions radiated. The brunette sucked in a breath as she itched at a sting she hadn’t found yet and the redhead’s attention darted back to her, full of concern.
“Everything ok?”
Waverly shrugged and held up the offending arm.
“Got a little attacked before I managed to escape, I admit.”
The redhead stopped and turned to her, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Are you allergic?”
Waverly shrugged. “I don’t think so? But I’m not sure I’ve ever been stung before.”
The redhead nodded, seemingly to herself and then looked back at Waverly. “I’ve got some things at camp to help, but what I don’t have is an epipen, so let’s hope you’re right. I’ve never done a tracheotomy in the field before; I’d rather not make you my Guinea pig.”
Waverly blanched when she heard the end of the sentence, the redhead’s teasing grin causing her to shake her head at the woman.
“That’s really not nice.”
“Oh, I think you’ll find I’m plenty nice.” The redhead kept her grin, turning away to continue walking, her pace just a little quicker than before.
Waverly’s eyes narrowed at the well-defined shoulders walking away from her.
Was she flirting?
Do I mind?
__
When they reached the campsite the woman unfolded a camp chair and set it to the side of the clearing, between the screen flap of the tent and a strung up hammock.
“Have a seat. Welcome to Chateau Haught.”
Waverly quirked an eyebrow and snorted.
Hot? Well, yes. If you like completely obvious names.
“Hot. Really? Have a first name? Exceptionally? Very?”
The redhead smiled cheekily and gave Waverly a closer inspection, just barely biting at her lip.
“H-a-u-g-h-t, thank you. But hey, if that’s how you’re thinking, I’m not going to discourage it. And you can just call me Nicole.”
“Well Nicole, H-a-u-g-h-t, I’m Waverly. Waverly Earp. And you said something about a towel? Or are you actually a scoundrel?”
The redhead laughed, a true open laugh and Waverly couldn’t help but grin in return.
“Yeah, give me a second.”
Nicole ducked into her tent and Waverly could hear the sound of zippers and shifting gear bags. She took a chance to look down at her own body, the soaked jean shorts and tee plastered to her skin, bare arms and legs dotted with raised white, angry looking welts, each with a bright red puncture mark in the center. She sighed as her adrenaline levels began to ebb and she could feel the pain of the stings, her skin feeling almost riotous, itchy and uncomfortable.
“Hey Nicole? How exactly do you know if you’re allergic or not?”
A red head appeared instantly in the door of the tent. “How’s your breathing?”
“I don’t know, normal?” Waverly shrugged.
“Ok, well take a few deep breaths and tell me how you feel.”
Nicole’s eyes were trained on hers and she did as asked, filling her lungs with air until her chest was puffed out and then releasing it, shrugging again after the third breath with the same result.
“Yeah, seems fine. I’m just itchy and it hurts a lot.”
Nicole cracked a half smile at her and indicated into the tent with her head. “Have a few things that will help, I think, be right out.”
Waverly nodded and Nicole’s head disappeared back inside. She shivered and stood, realizing she could at least wring out her tee, or try. She rolled the fabric up her abdomen, leaning forward before she wrung the material out as best she could.
Not much, but it’s something.
The brunette went to do the same to the rest of the shirt she could reach, twisting to pull the sides closer to her hands when she heard the unmistakable thump of someone tripping. Waverly turned back in time to catch Nicole brushing the dirt off her knees, red high across her cheeks and her eyes anywhere but Waverly’s torso.
“Ah, I got the stuff, if you’re ready.” Nicole held up a few things in her hands, Waverly nodding as she squeezed the last of the water she could manage out of her shirt and let the somewhat drier but now quite wrinkled cloth fall back into place.
Nicole nodded and moved closer, back in business mode. It made Waverly smile internally. The redhead handed her a backpacker’s absorbent towel and she made use of it the best she could, passably damp by the time she’s done. Slinging the towel over one of the hammock lines, she sat back on the camp chair.
Who was this mysterious Haught creature and where did she come from? Not just anyone goes camping in the Ghost River Triangle. Usually only idiots or drunks and she doesn’t look like either.
Nicole knelt next to her and handed her a water bladder. “Hold that, please.”
Waverly took the water and Nicole popped two pink pills out of a bubble sheet, placing them in Waverly’s upturned palm.
“Step one, Benadryl. Down the hatch.”
Waverly placed the pills in her mouth and washed them down with water, nodding as she handed the water back to the redhead, noticing she had the smallest mark to the left of her eye. Nicole was closer in her space now, the redhead’s eyes scanning the skin she could see, her hands hovering awkwardly away from Waverly’s body.
“You clearly know what you’re doing, if you need to touch me, you can.” Waverly smiled at Nicole and tucked her hair behind her ear, the redhead’s shoulders relaxing as she gently reached for Waverly’s left arm and turned it between her hands, making note of each bee’s landing spot.
“You really pissed them off.”
Waverly chuckled. “You think they’re pissed, I didn’t even get what I wanted out of the tree.”
Nicole laughed, slightly confused. “You know there’s easier ways to collect honey, right?”
Waverly rolled her eyes at the redhead and smiled. “Ha ha. I was following some old- err, an old map, actually, and the tree has been here since before Purgatory was a town, there was supposed to be something stuffed in it.”
“So you were following a treasure map?” The redhead’s tone was slightly unimpressed and she raised one questioning eyebrow.
Waverly bristled.
Who does this gorgeous twit of a redhead think she is? Treasure map? She’s lucky she’s cute and I’m covered in bee stings!
“No, I was following a preserved town record to discover the whereabouts of an item of historical significance.”
Nicole started chuckling, her hand going to cover her mouth and Waverly’s sour face is enough for her to hold up her hands in mock surrender.
“I’m sorry, just ‘item of historical significance,’” she winked at Waverly. “I’m really impressed you said all that with a straight face.”
Waverly stood up, hackles raised.
Cute butt or no cute butt, I did not come out here for this! It’s one thing for Wynonna to make fun of me, but her? Out here? I think not!
Waverly gathered herself and went to march out of the clearing, somewhat sure she was headed the right direction.
“Waverly, wait. I’m sorry; really, I’m just messing with you. I have to finish taking care of those stings, come back, please. I promise- I’ll be less of an ass.”
The brunette turned to find Nicole still on her knees, a hopeful puppy-dog look on her face. Waverly sighed and shook her head at the redhead, trying not to give into the flutter that followed as Nicole turned a thousand watt smile at her, a dimple appearing, of course, to perfect it.
Where did she freaking come from??
Waverly sat back on the camp chair, delicately folding her arms across her chest.
“No making fun of me, ok? That scroll I was looking for could help a lot of people.”
Nicole nodded, completely serious, the teasing gone. “Scout’s honor. What’s on it?”
The redhead gestured toward Waverly’s leg and she lifted it begrudgingly.
If she plays nice, I’ll play nice. And she is still pretty cute.
“Wait, what are you doing with that?”
Nicole held up the tube. “What, this?”
Waverly nodded at her like she was slightly stupid. “Yeah, that.”
Nicole squinted at her and tilted her head. “Its…toothpaste? For your stings?”
Waverly searched her brain to see if there was anything she could remember to corroborate that piece of information, but couldn’t.
“That really works?”
Nicole shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”
Waverly echoed the shrug. “If it doesn’t, it’s just toothpaste, right? Can’t really hurt me.”
Nicole huffed, amused. “That’s the spirit. Now let me see your legs.”
Waverly held out one, and then the other, her skin tingling where Nicole’s deft fingers had gently touched her, the pad of her other thumb spreading a layer of toothpaste across each welt. When Nicole had reached Waverly’s right wrist she hesitated.
“Oh there’s a stinger still in this one. Hang on, gotta get that out, it’s still releasing venom.” Nicole spoke quickly and then her mouth was against the skin of Waverly’s inner wrist and between the suction of the redhead’s lips, the pain of the sting and the brush of red hair against her soft skin, Waverly’s flesh erupted entirely in goosebumps, thankfully unnoticed as the redhead turned to the side and spat, inelegantly wiping her mouth after on her shirtsleeve.
Waverly realized her face might be in need of deliverance when Nicole looked back at her and blushed and the brunette scrambled internally to blank out her reaction, covering with a throat clearing, her eyes darting back down to her wrist and the goosebumps that ran around each welt. She saw Nicole’s hands come into view, gently grasping her wrist and layering toothpaste thickly along the last welt.
“That one might give you more trouble than the rest, the stinger hanging around for so long.”
Waverly let her eyes meet Nicole’s and found the redhead’s bright and focused right on her. She couldn’t help the smile that snuck across her face, and the answering one she got was kind.
“Thank you, Nicole. I’d still be running from the bees if I hadn’t crashed your…vacation?”
Nicole chuckled and put the cap back on the toothpaste. “Yeah, before I start my new job, thought I’d relax a little first.”
Waverly raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming to work in Purgatory?”
Nicole nodded. “That I am.”
“Wow.”
Interesting. Wonder what absolutely nutty thing is hiding in her background then.
“Is it really that strange of a place?”
Waverly laughed. “Oh, Nicole, you have no idea.”
Nicole’s eyebrows knit and she looked at Waverly. “You’re fucking with me, right?”
The brunette shrugged. “Not really.”
Nicole nodded, her lips pursed. “Well, at least it will be interesting.”
Waverly’s laugh became a yawn halfway through and Nicole chuckled.
“And there’s the Benadryl. If you want, you can curl up on my sleeping bag; you’re probably going to get pretty sleepy soon, might as well not fight it. I’ve got my hammock and a book, so nap if you want to.”
Waverly’s protestations were eaten by another yawn and Nicole just shook her head, picking up a book from the forest floor, brushing off the cover as she made herself comfortable in the hammock. She gestured to the tent.
“Off you go.”
Waverly knew that what she was about to do was probably the start of a half dozen horror films, but last she knew, none of them starred an exceptionally attractive, most definitely queer, redheaded serial killer so she figured she was fine. Besides, she could handle her own, if she had to. She was an Earp, godammit.
She ducked into the tent and more flopped than crawled onto the sleeping bag, her head finding Nicole’s pillow and instantly melting into it. Waverly could feel the medication starting to weigh on her like a heavy blanket and her eyes drifted closed, her last thoughts of vanilla dipped doughnuts.
__
Waverly woke slightly disoriented, the birdsong and slippery fabric under her skin not making any sense to her still groggy brain. She tried to sit up quickly but abandons the idea as her whole world tilts a bit as she does.
Where the fudgenuggets am I? Wait. Tent. Vanilla. Redhead? Nicole? Nicole. Oh, Nicole.
Shit. The scroll!
The brunette attempted to sit up again, more slowly this time, and succeeds. The top half of the tent door is screen and she can see she’s been asleep for quite a few hours, the sun has shifted across the clearing; it had to be at least early afternoon by now.
Waverly stretched, noticing her clothes are almost dry, and poked her head out of the tent to find Nicole asleep in the hammock, book splayed across her chest, a slight smile on her face.
Something about it tugs her heart and Waverly looked away, her eyes landing on the title of the book.
She would be reading that.
Her shadow crossed the redhead’s face and Nicole twitched, her eyes opening slowly.
“So I guess that wasn’t a dream then.”
Waverly felt her face heat and shook her head. “Still have the bee stings to prove it.”
Nicole winced. “Ouch. True.”
Waverly stepped back as the redhead pulled herself up to sit in the hammock.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better, thanks, the toothpaste actually helped a lot; they don’t hurt so much anymore.”
Nicole smiled. “That’s good to hear. I realized you didn’t answer me, and I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what’s on the scroll you were looking for?”
Waverly sat down on the camp chair. “Well, it’s the telling of a piece of my family history that should fill in a gap we have that’s a little more in our present than we generally like our past.”
“O-ok. So, you’re still going to go back for it then.”
Waverly nodded. “Of course.”
Nicole sighed as if she expected the answer. “Settles it, then. I’m coming with you.”
“Why would you do that? Bees, remember?”
Nicole got up from the hammock and pulled a fleece from inside the tent and a bandana from her back pocket. “I travel prepared.”
Waverly smiled at Nicole, the kindness this stranger had shown her. “You’re pretty unique, Nicole.”
The redhead grinned down at her. “Well, when I see something I like, I don’t want to wait.”
Waverly’s grin is more confident than she feels, but the redhead looked at her in a way no one had, and it made her feel optimistic.
Maybe she’ll show up Wynonna and Dolls after all, walk in with the scroll, smack it right down between their unbelieving faces.
__
They find their way back easily, following the blind thrashing path Waverly had created in her haste to escape the bees, careful to stop every once in a while and listen for the sound of humming.
Waverly spots the ancient oak first, a good four feet of trunk, its lightning damaged husk sticking into the sky. They approached as quietly as they can, Waverly carefully peering into the crack halfway up that she’d originally stuck her arm into, but she didn’t see or hear any of the trees former inhabitants.
Nicole had offered, of course, to do what Waverly was doing now, but the brunette wanted to finish the quest she’d set herself and so she found herself carefully reaching to the back of the crevice, her fingertips brushing the same mysterious thing she’d touched the last time before her finger had accidentally broken a piece of honeycomb and the bees had taken up arms.
Her skin scraped against the bark but she stretched just a little bit farther, her fingers able to close around the object and she pulled it triumphantly from the tree, Nicole’s worried face instantly breaking into that dimpled grin Waverly sure didn’t mind seeing. The redhead rushed over, her eyes glued to what Waverly held.
“Well, is that it?”
With shaking fingers, Waverly brushed the bits of tree from the cylinder and popped open the end of the tin canister, a long tightly rolled tube of paper slipping into her palm. Across the edge was the beginning of a deed.
“It really is, this is great! Wait until Wynonna and Dolls get a load of me now!”
Waverly barely noticed as Nicole stiffened, her body turning away from the brunette.
“Hey, Waverly, do you hear that? That sort of eerie piping, like pan pipes? I know you said this place was strange, but music in the woods?”
The brunette could hear it now too, an ethereal tinny melody, growing both closer and louder.
“If I’ve learned anything, Nicole, you’ve got to stay one step ahead of the weird. You coming?”
Waverly held out her hand. Nicole grinned.
“Lead on.”
The End?