Chapter 1: How to get out CAUGHT
Notes:
Chapter 1: When Wynonna catches some suspiciously ‘Wayhaught’ noises coming from the BBD offices late one night, she regrets her compulsive need to interrupt.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
WEDNESDAY:
“Come on baby…”
“Yeah… Yeah!”
“Oh yes!”
“That’ll do it, ohhhhh..!”
“YES!”
The aural assault began the instant resident demon hunter and local pariah Wynonna Earp stomped into the Purgatory Sheriff's Department. Wynonna was tired and royally pissed.
“Jesus Christ Nicole, you’re on duty for fucks sake” she whispered to herself. “Do you ever stop banging my sister?”
Listening to Waverly’s cop girlfriend screaming down the Black Badge Division inner office walls was not high on Wynonna’s list of ‘awesome things to do’ at 3am. Tonight, that list had been topped by finding Doc, her sorta-kinda-not man-friend sex-buddy baby-daddy, in an effort to shamelessly use his body to tone down her current pissyness to her more usual baseline of surly impertinence. But Doc remained M.I.A.
“You know what? Fuck this for a sack of potatoes, Haught-sauce…”
Wynonna decided that one way or another, her inner shit-ticket would be satisfied. It only took three seconds to calculate the most annoying ways she could interrupt Waverly’s infuriatingly active sex-life without also laser engraving unwanted images of her sister into her corneas.
Wynonna curled her lips in a trademark smirk. Grabbing her phone from her pocket she quickly brought up “Every breath you take” by The Police in her music app and flipped on the office tannoy. With her thumb hovering over the play button, she sat back, ready to listen to the sweet sound of panic from the comfort of this side of the door.
“Oh yes…!”
“Yes!”
“DOLLS!”
To protect itself, Wynonna’s brain ripped out a metaphorical headphone jack, plunging her into a short-lived vacuum of silence. Her breath stilled in her body. It felt like her heart was having the equivalent of a mind blank, forgetting not only how to beat but that it was even a heart at all.
What. Da fuck...?
Nicole Haught: Purgatory’s perfect puppy flatfoot... WAVERLY’S GIRLFRIEND!… and... and alpha-male stick-up-the-ass government agent Xavier Dolls?
Nope, nope, nope, full-on noping out of this one peeps...
Wynonna had to wait for her aural functions to reboot before she registered the presence of other voices, cheering, high fives and loud exclamations of denial.
“No fucking way Haught! She caught it fair and square! Your girl is out!”
“BULLSHIT! Your ‘girls’ foot touched the boundary rope. That’s a six. It’s a six any day of the week. It’s a six, we win and that is that.”
Wynonna finally reacted.
“Holy Mary, mother of Tyler Moore, what in hell’s hairy anus is going on?”
The scene before her was unprecedented.
Dolls was standing to his full imposing height, exuding authority and dominance but Nicole was uncowed. She stood toe to toe with him, glowering as fiercely as the sun melting scales off a basking lizard. Neither party flinched at Wynonna’s entrance, despite the door bursting open, window pane rattling in its frame. They each had a fist in the others clothing. Nicole’s left hand had grabbed the scoop of Dolls’ tight fitting tee while he tried to push her away by the shoulder.
Holy shit, is she going to deck him? Wynonna wondered. Jesus...
She glanced over at her sister Waverly. She looked like a moose trapped in alien landing lights, facial expression caught between triumph and growing concern at the tense scene before her.
Happy-go-lucky Lab tech Jeremy Chetri broke the ensuing silence as he peeked around from behind Doll’s imposing frame, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. “Oh, hi Wynonna. Wanna join in?”
“Look I don’t know what kind of kinky, fully-clothed, aggressive, noise orgy is going on here but I can’t be into it if my baby sister’s in the room Jeremy. That’s a step too far even for me.”
Wynonna looked pointedly at Waverly again. “Speaking of whom, why the hell are you wearing my yoga pants with a PPD Haughtie hoodie baby girl? Oh My God!” she rushed out the last sentence. “Tell me you’re wearing underwear.”
Waverly’s look of extreme embarrassment would’ve been enough to send Wy’s pissyness to catastrophic levels all on its own but combined with the fact that everyone else in the room seemed to know something about the subject by looking equally embarrassed caused her to lose her shit.
“Holy hell in a coffee cart! What the fuck is going on in here!”
“It’s nothing Wynonna…” Waverly tried to deflect but her unconscious fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie, pulling it down straighter as if it had the power to parry people’s imaginations and attention away from her told Wynonna it was definitely not nothing.
There was some kind of cover-up going on. A literal cover-up of her sister and Wynonna was being left out. This. Would. Not. Stand.
“Well, it’s clearly not nothing otherwise the four of you would look a little less like a box of vine ripened tamarillos! I’ve caught you out at something and as the Heir and mutha-ucking badass crazy chick with a gun...” Wynonna pulled out Peacemaker, waving it aimlessly at the roof. “...one of you better start the ‘splaining. Right. Now.”
Waverly rolled her eyes at her sisters dramatics, then turned back to Dolls and Nicole. Her concern face was back in place, complete with furrowed eyebrows and a wrinkled nose. She reached out to grab Nicole’s hand.
“Come on, let’s watch the replay. We can prove to Dolls that we won. We won baby!”
“HELL. NO.” Dolls managed through gritted teeth.
Waverly then reached out to the laptop and turned the sound up further, drawing Wynonna’s attention to the projector casting a huge scene of...sports, some kind of weird women’s sports game onto the back-wall.
“There’s no great conspiracy Wynonna. We’re just watching a game.” Waverly offered.
“Seriously!? You’re all here at 3am just so you can watch... sports?” She said it like it was the most cringe-worthy word in her inner dictionary, akin to ‘moist’, ‘slurp’ or ‘panties’.
“Hell to the yes ‘Nonna!” Jeremy attempted a bro-fist-bump in her general direction. Her returning withering stare seemed to shrink Jeremy two hat-sizes as he disappeared back behind Dolls, still standing to attention.
“Well why does that require an outfit change for Waves? And why do ‘Dollgon’ and ‘Haughterion’ here look like they’re about to ‘dracarys’ each other up?” Wynonna had more questions than this but she could feel the fight leaving her. She wouldn’t admit it but it bothered her that they had clearly made plans to spend time together without her.
“Hey! You made a Game of Thrones reference!” Waverly and Jeremy beamed almost in unison at Wynonna, mutually deciding to ignore Wynonna’s first question. They moved away from the screen and the continuing alpha dominance stare-off Dolls and Nicole were still locked in as the coverage repeatedly played in slow-motion.
“We’ve been watching a women’s international cricket match. That was the last play of the game and the outcome of this replay will determine which team wins. Nicole and I are supporting India and Jeremy and Dolls have got Sri Lanka. Things have gotten a little… ummm… competitive?” Her voice rose in inflection slightly, implying a question as Waverly winced and shot a worried glance at Jeremy.
Wynonna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Seriously Waves? Sports? Sports we don’t even play in this country? Sports where for the vast majority of time people just… stand about?”
“Hey… it’s women’s sports.” Waverly looked like a wounded hedgehog. “It’s not often broadcast you know. And it’s exciting! Honestly the match advantage kept see-sawing for the whole three hours.”
“You’ve been watching this for THREE FUCKING HOURS! HAUGHT! People could’ve been murdered!” Wynonna actually sounded scandalised.
“What?” Nicole’s attention was briefly diverted to Wynonna. “No, I can hear dispatch from here. We’ve only had one call-out and Lonnie drew the short-straw to attend.”
“Well that sounds safe, Deputy-wants-to-be-Sherriff-one-day.”
“He’s got a panic button…” Nicole defended and then looked back at the screen.
Wynonna was incredulous. “So what, the four of you have started a late-night, clandestine cricket club.”?
“Ummm, yes?” Waverly replied with uncertainty.
“No”! Dolls replied with absolute certainty. “We are NOT calling it that!”
“But I was going to make t-shirts” Waverly whined in the background.
The commentators voice resonated through the office returning everyone’s attention to the coverage. “I honestly don’t know how they’re going to make a decision here. The technology and replays don’t show a clear answer…”
Silence returned to the office as Wynonna, genuinely puzzled and incredulous at the continuing level of tension in the room, raised her hands in defeat and turned to watch with the others, utterly oblivious as to what she was looking at.
“...the ball was caught off a fair delivery but did the Sri Lankan player step on the boundary rope as she caught the ball? Yes equals an Indian victory. No means a Sri Lankan victory. Here comes the third umpire ruling… and she’s… NOT OUT! India have scored the winning runs off the final ball of the match!”
The commentary from the broadcast was quickly drowned out by the noise of Waverly and Nicole squealing in delight, with the former actually leaping into the latters arms and being twirled around the room.
Waverly leaned over her girlfriends shoulder as she spun. “In your FACE Dolls!” Waverly laughed with more glee than was strictly necessary. Dolls responded by sinking slowly to the couch, his palms running down his face in defeat.
Wynonna could hear Dolls muttering under his breath, “Find a way out, find a way out, think, think, think…”
Jeremy flicked the sound down as the Indian team ran onto the field to celebrate their win. He grabbed Dolls’ shoulders as if to give him a massage of commiseration a sombre expression on his face.
What the fuck just happened? Wynonna was rapidly losing any semblance of patience she had been managing to fake.
Nicole’s mouth twisted in a shit-eating grin as she put Waverly down and looked at Dolls. She was practically radiating with glee.
“No, Haught”
“You need to tell her…”
“NO.”
“Your rules, your bet, your loss. Time to ‘Dragon Man’ up.”
Wynonna’s patience, never present platinum record numbers, now vacated the building faster than a Jailhouse Rock era Elvis.
“WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED!”
Notes:
'What the fuck just happened’ indeed? What could possibly frighten Dolls so much? Why on earth is Nicole dicking about on the late shift? What possessed Waverly to wear that outfit? Do we even care?
Maybe you’re thinking ‘What the fuck did I just spend minutes of my life reading’? If so, sorry about that. There’s five chapters of nothing much happening other than Clandestine Cricket Club exponentially expanding, so feel free to jump out now before I waste any more of your time!
But if I’ve accidentally inspired you to learn more about cricket and you want to hunt down some highlights packages on YouTube, start here my friends.
Please tell me if this was a gateway drug to your new obsession with Cricket. I’d consider my life more than complete and I look forward to seeing you next time on “Five ways to get out (of any situation)” A.K.A Clandestine Cricket Club! (Somewhere, somehow, a tiny Dolls yells ‘We’re not calling it that!’)
According to the ICC Women’s Twenty20 International Playing Conditions (July 2018):
Clause 33.1 Out Caught
The striker is out Caught if a ball delivered by the bowler...touches her bat...and is subsequently held by a fielder as a fair catch...before it touches the ground.
Clause 33.2 A fair catch
A catch will be fair only if, in every case either the ball...or any fielder in contact with the ball, is not grounded beyond the boundary before the catch is completed.So… tough luck Dolls.
Chapter 2: How to get out STUMPED
Summary:
Nicole gets some unexpected bro’ time with Jeremy and Dolls which leads to her being stumped by an impossible problem thanks to her competitive nature. Or, the one where we go back in time to Monday and find out how Nicole got roped into Clandestine Cricket Club.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
MONDAY:
Squinting was not a good look on Jeremy but it told Nicole a very important truth. He would crack faster than a sprog-shaped piñata at a baby shower.
The light from the desk lamp she had turned into his face was appallingly bright for such a small appliance and was pumping out a decent heat.
Is he actually sweating? Already? I haven’t even asked him anything yet. There is definitely something going on here.
Nicole had just wanted to say ‘Hi’. To talk to someone other than Lonnie in the dead of the night on what was turning out to be a typically boring late shift. Jeremy wasn’t normally in the office near midnight unless something was up so Nicole had thought to check in on him. She had not expected Jeremy to be an obfuscating ball of woolly nervous energy.
“Jeremyyyyy…?” Nicole elongated the last syllable of his name, voice dripping with fake honeyed sweetness. A saccharine opening volley in an entirely unexpected interrogation.
“Why are you here?”
“Uhhhh, I, ah, I… I work here Nicole. I can be here. I’m allowed to be here. I’m… working. Yup. Working hard at the ol’ BBD.” Jeremy’s fingers mimed furious keyboard smashes. “I’m workin’ hard and I’m hardly ever not workin’.”
Hmmmmm. Uncharacteristic defensiveness amongst characteristic social ineptitude...
“Uh-huh. Working at what? At midnight. All alone. On a Monday?” Nicole could see the tiny beads of sweat forming in his hairline begin to roll determinedly forward, nearly ready to succumb to gravity but just holding back for a precious few more moments of safety before plunging down the convex half-pipe of Jeremy’s forehead.
“Oh, um. Digitising stuff. Yup. Building a database. Coding a… thing. You know, I.T. Admin. There’ll be an app. And stuff.” Jeremy was wilting under Nicole’s attention.
Every one of Nicole’s cop synapses had been triggered by Jeremy’s ability to be exceptionally shit at skirting the truth. Nicole could tell that he wasn’t outright ‘lying’. He was working on something but he wouldn’t, or couldn’t tell her about it.
I thought we were over this secret squirrel nonsense. Guess I’ll always be on the outside looking in. Nicole thought with a little bitterness.
Jeremy’s eyes darted involuntarily towards the office door. Someone was due to arrive. Nicole decided to push him a little bit further.
“Tell me more Jeremy. Working late on IT stuff. That sounds… normal. I’m not sure where all your nervous energy is coming from. Something to do with an impending visitor perhaps?”
“What? No way. Nuh-uh…”
Bingo.
“Ok. Great, well tell me all about your project then.” Nicole flomped herself down in the chair opposite Jeremy’s desk but continued to hold the lamp of interrogation in his face. She wasn’t done with him yet. “This late shift is turning out to be a bit of a drag and I’d love to learn more about your work. It’ll help keep me focussed. You know, in case of sudden crisis or monster incursion.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. Nicole had a whole week of nights to get through after six weeks on days. It took a while to adjust, but the main pain in the ass was that nothing ever happened unless it was batshit-scary life-in-danger supernatural bullshit. It was hard to keep her concentration at the levels needed to react well to stressful situations. She needed mental stimulation to remain sharp, attentive and ready for action. Hence her inability to leave Jeremy well enough alone.
“NO!” Jeremy’s sudden vehemence startled Nicole.
Okay, that was unexpected. What have you got yourself into? Jeremy’s reaction seemed genuinely fearful.
“You can’t be here when he comes. You just can’t. I’m supposed to keep it secret and…”
Jeremy’s face was an open book. He knew he’d fudged it. There was no way Nicole was going to let any part of that statement slide.
Her voice became genuinely concerned, all ‘good-cop’ reassurance and safety. “What’s wrong Jeremy? Who’s coming? I can protect you…”
Jeremy’s cursory laugh stopped her short.
“It’s Dolls ok. He’s just coming in for some… work. We’re working on something together and he doesn’t want anyone to know so it would be really awesome if you just…”
“What, Jeremy?”
“Ummm… left?”
Well, that stings...
Nicole’s eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t think so Jer… We’re supposed to be done with the secrets right? We’re all in this mess together. What are you keeping from us?” Nicole’s brain flashed as a connect the dots puzzle she’d apparently been working on in the background suddenly formed a completed picture. “Shit! Is he okay? Is the serum still working…?”
Jeremy’s face lit up in horror. For a split second, Nicole believed she’d unintentionally hit the bullseye. “Oh, no… um, no nothing like that.” Jeremy tried to back-track.
Nicole was entirely unconvinced. Her worry must’ve shown all over her face as Jeremy’s resolve seemed to completely crumble. “Okay, I’ll tell you but, please, please don’t let him know that you know, okay?”
“Okay, Jeremy. Calm down.” Nicole reached over the desk to briefly take his hands in hers, the act seemed to anchor him back to the moment. He took a steadying breath and continued.
“Um, so Dolls rarely relaxes or does anything for himself…”
Understatement of the year...
“...and I, well. I help him out a bit. With that. With the relaxing.”
Nicole’s eyes must’ve widened wide enough to be declared moons by some insect astronomers as Jeremy rapidly continued.
“Oh! No! Not that kind of relaxing um, it’s… ahh.” He suddenly grabbed his laptop, clicking and typing madly before turning it around for Nicole to see with her own eyes.
Nicole stared at the screen in bemusement. “Sports…? Dolls comes to BBD to watch sports and you hide it from everyone like it’s a state secret.”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“God! Dammit, Jeremy!” Nicole didn’t know whether she should be angry or relieved.
“I’m sorry! Look, he just likes quite odd sports and ahhh…” Jeremy was still looking furtively at the door. “He’s super fussy about game watching etiquette and he can get really competitive, so he… well, he doesn’t really ‘watch-well’ with others.”
“But he lets you watch with him”?
“Yeah, he does now but only after I taught myself the rules and I know just to sit quietly and enjoy the game. No talking. Just watching.”
“Sounds like… fun.” Nicole replied with a wince, patting Jeremy on the shoulder in solidarity. “Well, I’ll leave you to it I guess. Fixing Lonnie’s paperwork isn’t going to do itself.”
The look of relief that flooded Jeremy’s face only intensified the sting of rejection Nicole felt as she made her way back to her desk and the small hillock of paper that demanded her attention.
Being part of an inner circle of very special people keeping exceptionally awful things at bay was kind of becoming her jam. So when someone else on Team ‘I’m glad I wore the brown trousers today’ clearly didn’t want her around? Well, it blew higher than a .16 on a breathalyzer, even if it was just about sports and not literal biblical Revelation.
She’d barely started on the pile of Lonnie induced admin before a loud crash came from BBD with an accompanying Jeremy-tinged squeal. Nicole had leaped to attend and found herself helping Jeremy off the floor before she even registered that she’d moved.
“Are you okay, what happened?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine. I just…” Jeremy was beat red with embarrassment. “I’m too short! I can’t put up the damn projector screen and Dolls will be here any second and...”
“Okay, okay, look. I’ll help you set-up and then I’ll get out. Dolls won’t know anything about it. Just… Chill Jeremy. Before you have an aneurism.” Jeremy’s over the top nervousness was starting to grate on Nicole heavily. Who was Dolls to create such an intimidating aura around a simple thing like a game?
It only took a few minutes for Nicole to fix up the projector but before Jeremy could shuffle her out, Dolls arrived carrying a case of beer and snacks you wouldn’t really associate with a serious man who put serious time into his seriously intimidating physique.
“Jeremy…” Dolls began with a tone of admonishment. “I told you, no interruptions. We’ve got critical BBD research to get done tonight.”
There was something about the all-agent-no-nonsense persona Dolls sometimes defaulted to that whipped up a particular brand of anger and deliberate truculence in Nicole. There was now no way that she wasn’t going to crash Dolls’ Cricket party for the simple reason that it would annoy him intensely.
“Oh please, Dolls.” Nicole interrupted. “If you’re going to threaten me with treason again go ahead. I would just love to spend the rest of this boring-ass shift writing up a report for Nedley on my discovery of this giant waste of public resources in electricity and internet bills.”
Nicole could see him actively weighing up the risk of her statement to the future of his ESPN-all-chill nights.
“I know all about it from shortstuff over here.” Nicole casually pointed over her shoulder towards Jeremy. She knew she was landing him in it but right now she didn’t even care. She had acquired a new target to interrogate which was shaped like Dolls’ arrogance. “Unless the apocalypse suddenly descends on us, there’s nothing to do tonight other than listening to Lonnie talk about worming his dog and looking at pictures of his mother’s tea cosy collection. Watching sports with you is a marginal improvement to my night.”
Dolls sighed in resignation. “Fine Haught, you can stay but I have rules, including but not limited to, ‘no talking during gameplay’.”
“Dolls, no one watches sports in silence. I can promise you to zip it for half the match, If I can pick up all the rules just from watching then we all get to talk, like normal people, through the last half, deal?”
Nicole decided to take the small grunt Dolls appeared to make as agreement. It felt like victory.
Dolls set down his arm load of snacks and began settling into the couch Jeremy had dragged in from somewhere.
With Dolls’ apparent acceptance of Nicole’s presence, Jeremy’s demeanour improved markedly. “Okay, so this is an international twenty over a side women’s cricket match. Dolls supports the Sri Lankan team, the ‘Women in Blue’...”
“I’ll support whoever they’re playing against then.” Nicole was feeling intensely competitive. Anything to get one over Mr bossy-pants.
“Great, so you’re supporting India then. Helpfully, they also play in blue!” Jeremy enthused.
That was as far as conversation went for the next hour and a half and Nicole found herself inexplicably captivated by the game. She couldn’t help it. Yes, there was a lot of standing around but the athleticism of the women involved, the clear intelligence needed to play, was fascinating.
I think I kinda love this… Oh, shit… I’m a fan of Cricket! Dammit Jeremy! Dammit Dolls!
As the final wicket was taken off the last ball of the innings, Dolls sighed in anticipation of Nicole’s verdict on the game, but instead there was just silence as Nicole contemplated how she wanted to reveal her newfound intense fandom for the sport.
“It’s war.” was her eventual, simple comment. “It’s stylised, overly well mannered warfare, right?”
Dolls raised an eyebrow. He seemed pleasantly surprised by her insight so Nicole forged ahead.
“What? I’m serious guys. The whole thing is like it’s ripped from the pages of the Art of War. A team tries to dominate the opposition by taking advantage of pre-assessed individual weaknesses of the players and by understanding the environment. The condition of the pitch and the outfield dictates opening on-field tactics, the captain maneuvers her best fielders into the right positions for the style of bowling used in the tactical play. She has to adjust those tactics based on the real-time feedback she’s getting from the players and the reaction of the ball to the conditions. The winning team is the one who adjusts best to changes in any of the contributing elements. Atapattu was unstoppable today so the Indian tactics changed and they ripped through her teammates instead. I’m guessing Sri Lanka should’ve scored more than 140 runs?”
“Haught…” Dolls had the same look on his face the day he met Nicole. It was dark, brooding and exceptionally unwelcoming, but it suddenly split into a side smirk, acceptance and admiration leaking into his eyes. “You can stay.”
Well yay for me? Nicole thought, somewhat uncharitably for a second. She hated how much Dolls’ approval made her feel good. More than good really.
“Oh, yay! Welcome to Cricket Club” Jeremy offered a high-five which Nicole returned with a small smile.
“Jeremy! We’re not calling it that”! Dolls thundered.
Dolls, Jeremy and Nicole spent the twenty minute innings interval talking. Actually talking. Dolls shared his love of the game and Jeremy said a whole bunch of words about game statistics that left even Dolls baffled. They talked about sports they’d played, injuries and high school triumphs.
Huh. So he’s just a guy after all. Dolls may have a bit of a fire-breathing problem and an addiction to being a dick most of the time but when the government agent-ness melted away there was just a man. A weird sports loving man sharing his love of Cricket.
I could certainly get used to this… As the game wore on through the second innings, Nicole felt a growing sense of camaraderie with both men. It felt like being enveloped in a warm winter cloak, hand-crafted to keep her back warm in the dead of night as she sat around a campfire.
Of course it couldn’t last.
“Jeremy, will you quit it with the statistics! If you can go the rest of the game without quoting a batting average at me I swear I will grow a moustache that would leave Doc feeling small and inadequate.”
“What happens if he can’t manage it?” Nicole asked Dolls with a smirk. There was no way Jeremy was going to be able to see this out.
Jeremy was quick with an answer. “Well, I’d grow a moustache instead… what… why are you laughing..”
“Oh Jeremy… I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Nicole couldn’t speak further through the tears. She didn’t want Jeremy to think she was laughing ‘at’ him per se but so much was happening at once. The thought of Jeremy actively growing a moustache coupled with the sound of Dolls’ surprisingly high pitched laughter had her in a fit of uncontrollable giggles.
“Hey...I could do it you know. I COULD! You guys suck! I can do it and I will do it. Mithali Raj is the top all-time run scorer in one-day internationals. Ha! I WILL grow the ultimate inadequate moustache. Just you watch me”!
“Alright, alright. I believe you Jeremy.” Dolls put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you Dolls. Get ready for some Selleck level facial fuzz my friends!” Jeremy fired a half-hearted glare at Nicole.
“You’ve got a month to grow it in or you have to wear it for a year Jer-bear” Dolls gently patted his cheek.
“Wait, what”?
Nicole grinned despite herself. I’m actually having fun... She thought, even though she was essentially skiving off the late shift watching a ridiculously entertaining sport with Jeremy and Dolls of all people. But something was missing. Someone was missing. “Oh my God, guys Waverly would love this so much…”
“No! Dolls yelled with surprising vehemence, at the same time as Jeremy offered up an enthusiastic “Yeah!”
Dolls shot him a glare. “No way. I love Waverly, you know that. And I know she’s the fudge to your sunday Haught, but just… No. I don’t want anyone else joining in.”
“Why Dolls? Why is this such a secret? It’s just a game…” She squirmed slightly in her seat, looking uncomfortable with the sharp turn in their conversation.
Aaaaand there he is. Government Agent Man is back. This was the kind of attitude that Jeremy had been nervous about provoking. But Nicole was decidedly unintimidated by him. She was more bothered by the fact that even this was an exercise in BBD subterfuge and secrecy.
“No, I’m not having it.” Dolls was adamant.
“Dolls, that’s not an answer. Waves would love all of Jeremy’s stats stuff, and…”
“Nicole....” Dolls never used her first name. It shocked her enough to refrain from interrupting, hoping he would get it out eventually.
“It’s just… this is my one thing. My one normal thing, where… I’m not drawing a gun. Where I’m not worrying incessantly about a certain Earp woman with hair like the flowing mane of a stallion raining on my normal parade, do you get me?”
If she was honest with herself, Nicole did get it, even though she was surprised Dolls had confided such a truthful sounding thing to her. Nicole’s ‘normal’ was her job. She got to do normal police work, which, yeah, was really boring a lot of the time, but she got to help old ladies across the road, turn lost young people back towards the straight and narrow. It was rewarding, when it wasn’t batshit crazy. She could totally see the appeal in having something not splattered by the supernatural.
But why does that mean Waverly can’t watch sports with us if she wanted to? Dolls’ logic baffled her.
“Yeah, I get it Dolls, but Waverly swings by to see me sometimes you know. She’s bound to wander in here one day and you know how naturally curious she is. She’ll want to know all about it. Hell, if my interest was piqued, imagine how into it Waverly could get. It is nice to be able to share interests and maybe we all need a little bit of time together that isn’t flying by the seat of our pants towards impending doom?
Folding her arms, Nicole stared pointedly at Dolls, letting her expression scream My logic is better than yours and you know it.
Across the room, Nicole could see Jeremy’s face light up at her words. At least she seemed to have one of them on board. But Dolls was already shaking his head.
“No, no, no…this is not happening.” Dolls’ stubbornness was like masonry. Its mortar was curing into an unbreakable wall.
“What about a wager?” Jeremy interrupted.
“What?” Dolls and Nicole responded in unison.
“Let’s have a bet. If India win then Nicole gets to invite Waverly to the next game…” Jeremy trailed off as Dolls’ stare began to bore holes into his psyche.
“B...b…b...but if, ah, Sri Lanka win then Nicole is barred from talking about Cricket Club to anyone for the rest of time, pinky swear, no take backs.” Jeremy finished in a rush. “That’s a good first rule of Cricket Club actually - no one talks about…”
“JEREMY” Dolls put a finger to his lips, hushing Jeremy’s impending ramble. “Shhh. I’m thinking. And we aren’t calling it that.”
Well, this is escalating quickly… Nicole wasn’t sure what was going on but suddenly her interest in enjoying a game with a couple of mates had become a game of secrets and lies designed to exclude her girlfriend from joining in. She wasn’t having it.
“No, enough with the secrets and shit guys. This is fucking ridiculous.” Nicole crossed her arms again in defiance. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just call Waverly right now and invite her down to the station.” She was hell bent on not keeping secrets from Waverly. Ever. Well, ever again. Even one so banal as Dolls’ late-night odd sports addiction. Waverly was damn well getting an invite to the next game whether Dolls wanted her there or not.
Dolls interrupted. “I accept the wager…”
“Well, I don’t care Dolls. I’m not doing this!”
Dolls elaborated. “Nicole, If your team win then, fine, Waverly can join us next time, but if not I’m prepared to sweeten the deal for you. If you lose and have to keep my secret from everyone else, I will gather all of Waverly’s research and artifacts from BBD and release them back to her.”
Ohhhhhhh… shit. Nicole’s thoughts were like cottons in a tumble dryer. I could get Waverly’s work back for her?
“Dolls, you should just do that anyway. It’s her life's work, and it’s her intellectual property. Isn’t it legally hers anyway…” she stammered unconvincingly.
“No, it’s now legally the property of the US government so Canadian IP laws don’t apply. Also, I know how valuable it is so why would I voluntarily relinquish a tactical advantage when I want to get something from you?”
You smug, self-satisfied son of a... Nicole wanted to swipe the smirk right off his face. She knew he had her. And he knew she knew too.
Fuck.
Her eyes darted to the score. She did a quick calculation as to the odds of Sri Lanka winning. They were in a fairly poor position. India would have to completely collapse from here to lose now. Dolls must be loosening his grip on the idea of keeping Waverly out. He was going to lose this bet. But could she risk it?
No, don’t. You’ll regret it… This feels like a trap…
“Well, shit Dolls, when you put it like that, I guess I’m in. You know Sri Lanka can’t possibly win from here right?” Nicole reached out and solemnly shook Dolls’ hand, sealing the deal. And immediately felt pangs of regret a she noticed the sudden spark in his eye and the escalating smirk crawling over his face.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit...
Jeremy shifted his weight awkwardly in his chair and let out a nervous half laugh as the final over of the match began.
India only needed two runs from the over to win but amazingly, Siriwardene took three wickets in four balls. The game was over. Sri Lanka had won.
Dread settled over Nicole. “How….How did you...?”
Jeremy hid his cellphone under a pile of paperwork in the least surreptitious move ever attempted by man. “Definitely not by broadcasting the match on a time delay!” Jeremy unhelpfully offered under his breath. Pity Nicole had excellent hearing.
“What!? This is war Dolls”!
“No, that is war” Dolls said, pointing at the screen “This is a bitch slap. In. Your. Face.” Dolls had never looked so smug. “I’ll have all of the research back by the end of the week Haught, and Jeremy will release everything I’ve got locked up in the filing cabinet.” He flicked Jeremy a key before walking up to a frankly shell-shocked Nicole. “And remember Nicole, If Waverly or anyone else interrupts my game I can confiscate this all right back again. Just. Like. That.” He emphasised his point with a Thanosesque finger snap before plastering that stupid smug grin across his face, walking out of the office, opened beer in hand.
“You… you can’t take that out of here. The station’s in a liquor ban area…” Nicole lamely offered to his retreating back. But he was soon gone, a soft chuckle leaving him as the door unfortunately didn’t hit him in the ass on the way out.
What the fuck was tonight? Nicole wondered. From boring shift to discovering a new fun sport, to hanging out with the guys to keeping the world’s most boring secret. At least nothing had tried to kill her tonight, but still…
There was no way she could keep this from Waverly indefinitely. She had to tell her. Scratch that. She needed to tell her. But the bet was now forcing her to keep Dolls’ and Jeremy’s secret in confidence. She couldn’t just break that, no matter own stupidly banal it was.
Nicole turned her ire to the only other viable target in the room. “Jeremy… He cheated. The bet was neither legitimate, nor fair. It doesn’t count.” Her tone was quiet, controlled but filled with anger.
Jeremy looked petrified. “Ahhh, I’m sorry Nicole! I’m not an umpire, I just follow Dolls’ instructions okay! Hey, you’re clever, you’ll find a way out of this. We always do, right!” He offered up his hand for a high-five but Nicole left him hanging as she turned introspective.
How the hell am I going to get out of this? Nicole was absolutely stumped.
Notes:
Are you still here? Why? My god - stop torturing yourselves!
But if you are still bizarrely invested, the last three chapters should be better/funnier which is my way of saying Chapter 2 is my least favourite so I tucked it in immediately after posting Chapter 1 as if it could somehow hide away back here much like my understanding of my true sexuality hid for 25 years. ‘Cos that always works out well. Great plan.
Next time, beware the oncoming storm that is Waverly Earp as we see Tuesday and a bit of pre-game set-up for the known shenanigans of Wednesday. You won’t have to wait long ‘cos I’ve finished the fic I just haven’t quite finished the editing. And editing is hard when you don’t England so well.
According to the ICC Women’s Twenty20 International Playing Conditions (July 2018):
39.1 Out Stumped The striker is out Stumped:
- If a ball which is delivered is deemed legitimate and fair by the umpire. (Was it legitimate and fair… All’s fair in love and war amiright?)
- If she is out of her ground (Nicole was totally out of her comfort zone.)
- and if she has not attempted a run (She didn’t even want to bet!) when her wicket is fairly put down by the wicket-keeper (Dolls the ultimate keeper of wickets)
39.3.1 The striker will not be out Stumped if she has left her ground in order to avoid injury. Especially if inflicted by Waverly. (I may have added that last part. There’s always a way out, right?).
But this makes no sense in English so why not watch a stumping in action? Actually, there’s good examples of all sorts of Cricket dismissals in this highlights package. https://youtu.be/XC3yAEQABvQ?t=84 You’re very welcome ;)
Chapter 3: How to get out RUN OUT
Summary:
Something’s up at BBD and Waverly is going to flip every shred of evidence she can find until she uncovers the truth. Ain’t nobody gonna run her out of her own office, goddammit! A.K.A. The one where Waverly has a really bad day. And therefore, so does Nicole.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
TUESDAY
The smell hit Waverly as soon as she breezed through the BBD office doors. Stale beer, Hot Cheetos and Jalapeno Poppers. The smell of late night snacks and burning the midnight oil. Someone or some people had been working late into the night. At BBD, that can only mean serious supernatural shenanigans had arisen and once again, no one had thought to ask for her input.
God she was tired of this. Her research into the Ghost River Triangle had proven the difference so many times in finding the right Revenants and their lairs but no one ever thought to ask for her input until the shit had already been shredded by the fan, cast to the ground and had daisies flowering in it.
She wondered why Nicole hadn’t mentioned anything when she got in early this morning. To be fair, she hadn’t the wherewithal to say anything much. Securing her weapon in the gun safe before removing her clothing and flopping into bed to spoon with Waverly, she had been pretty much out to it straight away. A burbled “Mornin’ baby. Go ba’ ta sleep” being the only intelligible thing Waverly had been able to make out.
Waverly had reawoken a couple of hours later and reluctantly disentangled herself from her near comatose girlfriend. The day was new and she had a bunch of stupid chores to do. Especially if she wanted to cook a nice meal for Nicole in the early evening. Having dinner for Nicole’s ‘breakfast’ had become a little tradition for them during the late shift cycle as Nicole had a tendency to fall into a pattern of work/sleep that left little time for actually looking after herself.
So Waverly was on a mission this morning. First, head to BBD for a workout, then the laundromat. But now she was actually in the office, every mite of suspicion in her pores was restless. Something went down last night and she was the last to know about it. Again.
She followed the smell to Doll’s desk where the decidedly un-Dolls like junk food wrappers and beer bottles were crammed into his tiny under desk wastebasket. “Dammit Dolls, those are recyclable.” Waverly’s annoyance was obvious and distracting enough that she didn’t hear Sheriff Nedley enter the room.
“Ahhemmm.” Nedley cleared his throat to get her attention. It worked, but only by startling Waverly. She hit her head on the desk on the way up.
“Eeeep! Sheriff! Hi!” Waverly broke out her trademark smile and wave.
“You know, a very smart young woman once told me, this isn’t patriarchal bullshit land. You don’t have to be here, clearing up after everyone…” Nedley trailed off as he noted Waverly’s eyes narrow fiercely. “But of course, as a member of the patriarchy, perhaps I should stop trying to tell you what you should or shouldn’t be doing with your time.”
“I appreciate your concern Sheriff, I’m just…”
“Looking for something?” Nedley offered, his eyes straying to the space under the desk Waverly had just vacated, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“Um, no, not really. I think Jeremy or Dolls might’ve been here and... Do you know if anything, um, ‘interesting’, happened last night?” She let her air quotes do the supernatural implication for her and tried not to look too eager for information. “Looks like they were all here a while.”
“Well, I wouldn’t really know… not about all that anyways. There’s nothing in Nicole’s reports overnight.” he unhelpfully offered. Sensing her disappointment but unable to do anything about it, Nedley turned to make his leave. “Well, you have a good day now Waverly.”
Waverly sighed at his departing form. “Gee thanks Jon Snow.” Waverly muttered under her breath, annoyed by the Sheriff’s singular ability to know absolutely nothing.
“I’ve always thought of myself more as the Jeor Mormont type actually.” Nedley called over his shoulder, wandering off to his office, trademark coffee cup in hand.
Waverly blushed at being overheard but she really didn’t like feeling as if she was being run out of her own office. She could feel her miffyness growning like a lint ball in her chest. Something was off but she couldn't get a good bead on it. It was no use. The bee in her bonnet wouldn’t rest until she had helped it home to it’s hive. Last resort, she could always grill Nicole about it over dinner.
Workout and laundry plans abandoned for now, Waverly began ‘Operation Snoopy’.
There was nothing obvious on Dolls’ desk, but that wasn’t terribly unusual. Jeremy’s was overflowing with cobbled together bits of tech, wires draped dangerously over the sides. No new murder boards, no handy incriminating crime scene photos, lab reports or flasks of goo to attract unwanted attention. Waverly was swiftly moving from mildly miffed territory to visibly annoyed.
The desk nominally assigned to Wynonna only revealed three separate doughnut boxes smeared with sugar dust and jam. An actual conga-line of ants lead away from them as if mocking Waverly with their clear sense of direction and knowledge of purpose.
“I work with animals…” Waverly tidied up the detritus and sorted the recycling, grabbing a coffee from the break room before reassessing her tactics. They were careless with the snacks, but meticulous with tidying away the actual evidence. Hmmmm. Waverly’s brain continued the assessment, concluding, This smells like a Dolls/Wynonna double tap.
She cast her eyes around the office again as she drank, miming a finger gun softly making little ‘pew, pew’ noises as she tried to take in the bigger picture. Each shot eliminated an area of the rather cavernous office space from her enquiry, until her eyes finally landed on a clue.
“Bullseye…”
Dolls had left the key in The filing cabinet where her research was locked away, her research on the Earp curse and the Revenant menace. There had definitely been some action last night. Waverly stomped over and hauled out the upper drawer. “God dammit guys! I’m supposed to be a consultant, so maybe, I don’t know, actually consult me once in a while!”
Waverly skipped the next few levels of annoyance to immediately reach full apoplexy as she began pulling out the files. “The system… holy shiznits, they didn’t use the system!” Everything was out of order, a colour uncoordinated mess of misfiled and now incoherently tagged evidence.
“Out of the way flatfoots!”
Waverly heard Wynonna and Doc’s approach long before seeing them. Through her fast descending red mist, Waverly waited, staring directly at the door as they sauntered in. Wynonna came to a startled stop, immediately noticing Waverly at the back of the room.
“Gee-zus baby girl! Don’t you ever Hannibal Lecter me like that again. I nearly dropped the doughnuts!” Wynonna carefully placed two boxes down on an available deskspace, treating them with more revenance than the office floor, which was now covered in an unfortunately familiar viscous goo. Wynonna was covered head to boot in it.
“What the hell happened to you!?” Waverly exclaimed.
“Girl, let’s just say that it looks a whole hell of a lot like that Crack-a-jack thing from a while back, you know, with the spiders and the goo egg sacs, had itself a truly excellent adventure in the town sewer system.”
“You mean ‘Krakinos’?” Waverly quickly interrupted, looking over to a suspiciously clean Doc who merely shrugged his shoulders, unwilling to interrupt Wynonna’s telling of the story.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Wynonna continued. “Doc and I stumbled into a few after tracking a couple of Revenants back to the Gardner property. They’d ‘napped’ a kid off the street right in front of us. I mean who does that?”
Waverly had an idea. She had a file on brothers Wyatt Earp had taken down for stealing children for a cannibalistic ritual. The file with her research on them was sitting on the desk right next to her. And here Wynonna was talking at her like she didn’t know anything about it. Apoplexy was turning out to be a word that meant ‘Cheers, I’m having a great day, thanks for asking’ next to what Waverly was feeling right now.
Wynonna continued, oblivious to her sisters growing anger and agitation. “These douche-canoe Revenants were going to feed the kid to some early hatchlings, playing nursemaid to the things just like stupid fucking Earl.” Wynonna’s shoulders sagged with tiredness but her eyes glinted with excitement like the best bit was still to come.
“They made their peace by bragging about the metric shit-tonne of egg sacks about to launch beagle-sized spiders out of every municipally connected toilet in town. God! Can you imagine Bunny Loblaw’s little ferret face melting from shock as she lifted her lid for her morning dump of toxic waste!”
Waverly was still angry but she was invested in the story now. “What did you do?”
“Well, once I turned Mercedes’ place into a snot covered former terrarium, Doc and I spent hours at the sewerage treatment plant taking out every damn sac we could find. I will never understand how that means I look like a Halloween trick and Doc looks like, well, like coolness personified. How in the hell man!”
Doc smirked at them both. “Well I am the fastest draw that ever lived. They could not get close enough to me to be a real problem.”
“The egg sacs weren’t moving Doc! Urgh, I need to wipe the last few hours from my memory by consuming every single one of those doughnuts as a whisky chaser but I can’t do that until I’m clean.”
Wynonna had been sidling up to the showers during her story, the doorway seemingly sucking her out of the room with a squelch, sticky booted footprints trailing behind her on the office floor.
Waverly was left with Doc, moustache slightly askew with a chagrined smile on his lips. He began to shrug his shoulders in anticipation of a hurricane force Waverly reaction.
“What the hell Doc! You took these guys on by yourselves? Did anyone know where you were? And, also, what have we learned since ‘Nonna became the heir! NEVER TOUCH THE GOO! How did you let this happen?”
“What can I say Miss Waverly. Your sister is a force to be reckoned with. Would it not have been old fashioned, nay, downright misogynistic of me to attempt to prevent her from acting the hero, rescuing that poor child from the clutches of such evil men?” Doc’s tone was flippant but his eyes told Waverly a different story. “We saved the child. That’s all that matters.”
Waverly deflated, settling down to sit amongst the papers and files she’d so far liberated from the cabinet, pinching the bridge of her nose. After a period of silence, Doc tried to break it by picking up a file with curiosity. “What do we have here…” His voice quickly trailed away as he caught Waverly slowly lifting her head to stare at him with a gaze that would melt the keratin off a Rhino.
“You know damn well what this is Doc”! Waverly felt her anger return in full force. Was Doc mocking her right now? “My research is an absolute mess! If you had just called me last night and asked me about kidnapping Revenants or the Krakinos before literally rifling through my drawers I could've pulled up the right files…” at this she flipped through the top five folders to her right, before pulling two out and shoving them in his chest. “...and saved you all hours of work and fifty-million degrees of danger!”
Wynonna padded back to the office, wrapping her hair in a towel, sweatpants and a t shirt hastily thrown on in her hurry to catch the eye of the storm.
“Waverly? You’re putting the ‘rant’ into incoherent right now. What’s up?”
“Doc! And you! And Dolls! Probably Jeremy and Nicole for all I know!”
Wynonna just stared at her with the same expression she reserved for when Waverly went off into ‘professor mode’. Waverly pushed through it.
“Why didn’t you call me…”
“I told you baby girl, we stumbled into them after tracking the Revenants…”
“No, you were all here, using my research last night and not involving me.” Wynonna continued to look perplexed but Waverly was on a roll now and she had to let it out. “Are you trying to run me out of BBD? I know my choices may not have been… admirable lately…”
Waverly’s mind unhelpfully provided flashbacks in full technicolour and surround sound of widows, witches and alternate realities all leading to her all-time best and worst decision - the one that saved the love of her life, but nearly cost them all everything in return.
“...but dammit Wynonna, this is what I do!” She grabbed the folders back from Doc suddenly, turning to shuffle them back into order with their filing siblings.
Wynonna reached out and put her hands on Waverly’s shoulders, steadying her as she tried to catch her breath after her outburst.
“We weren’t here last night Waverly. Honestly, we…”
Waverly shrugged out from under her sister. “I put everything I am into this work and… If you’re not even using it, then why is it all messed up?” She sighed, feeling the fight go out of her.
“Oh, I think Jeremy may have been fingering it with his technology and whatnot…” Doc unhelpfully offered, causing Wynonna to roll her eyes.
“Digitising it, Doc. Jesus Christ we need to work on your tech literacy.” She turned her attention back to her sister. “I think he’s been digitising it so we can all use it on our phones and stuff, out in the wild, you know? Something about a cross referencing database, blah, blah, blah. Honestly, I faded out.”
It shouldn’t have been possible, but her face fell even further with the thought that even Jeremy was taking advantage of her work and not including her. That really hurt.
Suddenly, she didn’t want to be anywhere near the station, BBD, her sister or anyone else for that matter. Waverly pushed herself up from the desk, grabbing as many of the files as she could carry. “I’ll come back later for the rest of these, and that better be all cleaned up by the time I get back!” Waverly pointed towards the goo-laden floor before running out of the office.
A few hours later, Waverly’s day had officially imploded. By the time she made it to the laundromat, it had shut for the afternoon due to a ‘family emergency’, her jeep broke down on the way to get groceries, and when she finally got there she had to fork out twice what she’d budgeted for the nights dinner due to the price of Eggplants.
At least it seemed she hadn’t woken Nicole early with her arrival at the apartment or with the noise she was making preparing the vegan moussaka. After setting it to bake, Waverly sat down and tried to find the enthusiasm to begin reorganising her research notes. In reality, she stared at the same sheaf of papers for 20 minutes while she stewed about the days events.
She couldn’t wait for Nicole to wake up so she could find out who and what had messed up both BBD and her files last night. There was going to be hell to pay.
As the aroma from the oven permeated the house, a very dopey Nicole Haught made her way down the stairs. Barely dressed and with half lidded eyes, she looked like a sleepy Wile E Coyote floating on a visible fog of wafting scent.
Waverly couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “Afternoon sleepy head.” Waverly greeted her, going on tippy-toes to catch Nicole's face in her hands, planting a soft kiss to unresponsive lips. “Still asleep?”
“Yeah… mornin’... love you… hmmmmm… smell good…” Nicole managed to whisper out before following Waverly into the kitchen.
“Dinnereakfast’s in an hour, so how about a pick-me up?” Waverly offered, waving Nicole’s Dana Scully coffee mug at her.
“Ohhhh, yeah, p’ease love” Nicole managed as she flopped into a kitchen chair. “Wha’s all this?” hands indicating the files, sticky notes and labels covering every square inch of the table.
“Oh, nothing baby. Dolls left my research out at BBD overnight so I sorta kinda commandeered some of it back this morning.”
Waverly noticed Nicole stiffen at the mention of her research. She had resolved to wait until Nicole had at least had a cup of coffee and begun to talk in more intelligible sentences before she started grilling her but there was something about the expression on her girlfriends face that warranted immediate attention.
“Baaaaby..?” Waverly tilted her head questioningly, using her finger on Nicole’s chin to lift her gaze directly towards her. “What was going on at BBD last night?”
“Uhhhhhh…” Nicole was clearly not yet functioning at her normal high level and Waverly intended to take full advantage. She pushed Nicole back in the chair, swung her leg up and straddled her girlfriend, Nicole’s hands automatically falling to Waverly’s hips, steading her in her lap.
Waverly’s eyes were boring holes into her girlfriend, who stared back transfixed, prey trapped by a superpredator on the high veldt. She didn’t stand a chance.
“I can’t tell you!” Nicole blurted.
“WHAT?” Waverly did not expect that as a response. She involuntarily jumped back effectively removing herself from Nicole's lap. “What do you mean ‘You can’t tell me!’” The look of epic guilt crossing Nicole’s face had ramped Waverly right back up to her earlier levels of apoplexy.
Nicole was now wide awake. Panic does that to you.
“I can’t say...”
“Why not?”
“I can’t say…”
“Who says you can’t say?”
“I can’t say. But their names rhyme with ‘bell-end-ery’ and ‘Balls’.” Nicole offered, trying to lighten the mood.
“Did they swear you to a blood pact?”
“Well, no, not exactly…”
“NICOLE RAYLEIGH HAUGHT, I SWEAR TO GOD!”
“I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! All I can say is it’s not a BBD thing, it’s just something between Dolls and Jeremy and I only just found out about it and I wish I could tell you but they explicitly told me not to!”
“Asked, or told?” Waverly wanted clarification. There was a big difference in her book.
“YES!” Nicole replied.
“What does that mean!?”
“It means it’s not important baby...” Nicole’s face told Waverly that she knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say. “...no, no, no, no! Not that you’re not important!” Nicole reached out blindly, trying to take Waverly’s hands in her own.
“And I’m not trying to minimise your feelings, I promise.” Nicole sighed into the silence Waverly offered for her to continue the story.
“Last Night, Jeremy and Dolls were at BBD, NOT doing anything at all related to BBD work. I caught them at it and they’ve sworn me to secrecy. That’s it. That’s the story. It’s so exceptionally boring and silly and I can’t believe I’ve been trapped into a situation where I’m keeping such a banal secret from you!” Nicole’s face had actually gone red while trying to get it all out.
Waverly’s silence continued, interrupted only by the oven timer singing out across the room.
“I have to go check the…” Waverly whispered. She turned and began to fuss over dinner. Waverly felt bone achingly tired. The whole day had felt like running from one disappointment to another and now her girlfriend was keeping a secret from her, after they’d agreed never to do it again. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Out of everyone, she thought she could count on Nicole not to shut her out.
“This has another 15 minutes in the oven. I’ve got to go.” Waverly walked past Nicole to grab her bag from the couch.
“Wait! Please, Waverly!” Nicole followed her and gently held her by the arms. When she felt no resistance, Nicole continued. “I’ve literally just woken up and found myself in an incredibly intense argument and I know it’s not for ‘no reason’ but I’m really struggling to understand how we got to you wanting to run out right now. Please. Talk to me Waverly?”
“I’m sorry, you’re right…” Waverly sighed and dropped her bag to the ground, stealing herself to attempt an explanation. “This isn’t your fault, even though I am mad about the weird secret… I guess, I’ve just had a really intense day. Everyone seems to be keeping secrets from me and I just… I’ve had enough, alright!” Waverly gestured futility with her arms, effectively breaking contact with Nicole.
“I thought we were all over this shitty, secret agent stuff, you know? I’m tired of being left out, my contribution not valued. We’re supposed to be a family, you know. All of us. I don’t care how banal the secret is. This sucks, Nicole, this really sucks.” Nicole looked heart broken,
“Oh, I hear you...”
“Look, I’ve just been really angry all day and whatever this thing is, isn’t helping. I’m not really mad ‘at’ you but I am mad. I am mad as all hell and I don’t want to let any more of it out at you. You don’t deserve it baby…”
Waverly could see the pain on Nicole’s face but every time she looked at her girlfriend she could feel her little ball of anger roll over, agitated like a cat high on nip.
“We’ll talk some more later, I promise but I just need to go blow this off more productively. Maybe directly at Jeremy. Or Dolls. Or both of them at once. Through a megaphone.”
Nicole couldn’t help let out a half laugh. She reached out again to Waverly. “I think I get that, but I’ll miss you. I love eating ‘dinnereakfast’ with you…” Nicole opened her arms and Waverly immediately sank into her embrace.
“We’re good, I promise.” Waverly offered. “But this secret thing is really…”
“Shitty, I know.” Nicole offered, releasing Waverly so she could gently nuzzle and kiss her forehead. “I’m going to find a way out of it. You’ll know all about it soon enough.”
“Well, in the meantime, at least I’ve got all of this back. Next I just have to get back the Earp artifacts Dolls stole, sorry, ‘commandeered’ from me and maybe I can fix this mess.” Waverly gestured towards the files.
“Happy to have it back?” Nicole asked.
“Hell yes. It was the best thing about today, oooo, other than seeing you of course.”
“Nice catch Earp” Nicole smiled. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”
Nicole helped gather the files together and walked Waverly over to the door. “Text me later ‘kay?” Let me know if your evening improves after your megaphone therapy?”
“Yeah, I will.” Waverly chuckled, pausing in the doorway before suddenly rounding on Nicole again. “Still can’t tell me what they’re up to?”
“Waverly, no, I…” Nicole sounded exasperated.
“It’s okay. Well, no it’s not but I get it.” She sighed in resignation. “But it better be that they’ve started a secret illicit affair or something because god dammit!”
“I know baby. I love you.” Nicole bent to gently kiss Waverly goodbye.
“I love you too. Now go get ready for work and enjoy the moussaka. We’ll talk some more later ok?”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Oh, Nicole?” Waverly backed down the steps as she left. “You’re a good friend you know? I hope they appreciate what you do for them. Bye love.”
“Bye” Nicole smiled at her girlfriend as she turned and walked away.
WEDNESDAY
Waverly didn’t get to talk to Nicole later. At least not right away. After failing to track down Jeremy or Dolls, or a therapy megaphone, she retired to the Homestead for the night, staying up horrendously too long reorganising the filing system. So she ended up sleeping late and missed the chance to go wake up with Nicole and talk without the anger ball ballsing things up.
She didn’t even get the chance to text Nicole as Wynonna called her in just after she woke. Surprise surprise, there were more Krakinos sacs at the wastewater treatment plant and Wynonna suddenly wanted to read over the research she and Jeremy had done the first time round. So Waverly did what Waverly was wont to do. She delivered it in person and helped her despatch the spiderens in a quarter of the time Wynonna had taken last time. But with an equal amount of mess.
By the time Waverly got cleaned up and debriefed Dolls, Nicole had already woken and headed in to the office for Wednesday night’s shift. They likely only missed each other by half an hour or so and Waverly was feeling the frustration. Sometimes it went like this, days where they passed each other like ships in the night. But they really needed to talk. Texting wasn’t ideal but she could at least check in with her girlfriend.
...
Waves: I’m so sorry Nicole! I slept late this morning and then Wynonna needed help with a little problem...
She sent her a picture she’d surreptitiously taken of Wynonna covered in spider sac snot.
Nicole: OMG! Are you both ok?
Waves: Yeah, I only got covered in the goo once. Wy bought it twice. It was HILARIOUS.
Nicole: :/
Waves: But also, dangerous, yes. But we’re fine! Look:
Waverly sent another picture, this time a selfie with the caption: ‘Proud to announce, I am goo free!’
Nicole: Har har. I missed you love. I really need to see you soon.
Waverly could see the three little dots indicating that Nicole was still typing.
...
Nicole: I feel awful. I’ve seen Dolls twice tonight and I kinda want to commit a felony offence every time I see his stupid little face!
...
Nicole: I really want to see see you and have that talk. Could you, maybe, come visit me tonight?
...
Waverly paused at this. Nicole had often said she didn’t like to have Waverly visit on the night shift. That it was too ‘distracting’. All that office space and hardly anyone about…
Nicole: Timing is important. Come down just after midnight. Please?
Well that was cryptic… Waverly thought. What is she up to? Waverly knew there would be a point in the shift where either Nicole or Lonnie went out to man the speed trap and the other would staff the desk. Alone. This conversation was beginning to fan Waverly’s imagination. I wonder if she means… Waverly’s thoughts were a whir as she typed out a confirmation.
Waves: Of course, love ;) ;) <3 <3 <3 Should I… bring anything?
There was another pause as Nicole typed.
Nicole: Just you’re super sexy self! ;)
Nicole: Maybe bring snacks? :D I gotta go - can’t wait to see you!
Waverly couldn’t help the conspiratorial smirk she made at her phone. “Snacks huh… Well, I’m a snack baby.” Waverly mumbled under her breath. There would be no more running out on this. It was time to plan a post midnight ‘run in’ with her lady on the night shift.
Notes:
NOOO WAVERLY! DON’T DO IT! You’ll just end up running yourself out!
Apologies for this chapter featuring no real references to Cricket. It’s the innings break. Go get a ‘chip-on-a-stick’ and relax until chapter four drops where you’ll get an insight into Dolls’ inner monologue before and after Wynonna crashes Clandestine Cricket Club on Wednesday night.
According to the ICC Women’s Twenty20 International Playing Conditions (July 2018):
38.1 RUNOUT Either batter is out Run out...
- if, at any time while the ball is in play, she is out of her ground and her wicket is fairly put down by the action of a fielder…
Which also makes very little sense unless you can see it, so although Australian Cricket isn’t my *favourite* thing to watch… (Sorry @Seda!) Alyssa Healy is the best Wicket keeper on earth right now so checkout this gem of a run out from the Australian Women's Big Bash League.
Chapter 4: How to get out LEG BEFORE WICKET
Summary:
Dolls tries to adjust to his (not) Cricket Club becoming an open buffet as not one, but two gatecrashers cause him inner turmoil. A.K.A. How Wednesday night began and how it ended.
Notes:
I can’t write Dolls. My writers feet ran off in a direction and by the time I looked back to see what had happened, it was too late. This is the result.
Also, I swear, ‘Leg before wicket’ is a legit form of dismissal in Cricket... Roughly translated it means hoes before bros… or something.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
WEDNESDAY NIGHT: REDUX
Dolls’ Inner Monologue Situation Report (DIMSitRep):
Theatre of engagement: Black Badge Divisional Office, Purgatory Sheriff’s Department.
Time: 0015
Personnel:
- Agent Xavier Dolls, Lead (reporting).
- Agent Jeremy Chetri, attending.
- Officer Nicole Haught... also here.
Situation: Under Control
Situation class:
- Normal: 0 killed, 0 missing, 0 wounded.
ConcerningWorryingTroublingAwfulCataclysmically awfulEnd of days
Additional Information: Match begins in T -5 minutes
Sensitive information: Dragon status - CLASSIFIED
Open Actions:
- Set up projector correctly
- Drink beer
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Cricket Club was supposed to be about relaxation.
For Dolls, it was an indulgence in a fantasy world where warfare was conducted within predictable parameters, and within a pre-agreed spirit that went over and above the official laws of the game. Utterly unlike real life, which was filled with uncontrollable situations and people. Like Nicole Haught. Bringing anxiety and tight-lipped aggression into his sanctuary of calm.
“Haught, you need to put that back further against the wall…”
“Dammit Dolls, will you stop trying to control everything! I know how to put up a projector screen. I don’t need your advice, or your pissy instructions.”
Dolls could see Nicole’s emotions writing themselves all over her face but she shook each one away like abandoned drawings on an Etch-A-Sketch. Something was clearly on her mind but she couldn’t seem to commit to saying anything out loud. So instead Dolls was treated to a silent and unconscious performance of internal angst. The whole production was lending a tension to the room that Dolls was finding infuriating.
How do I play this? Dolls wondered. Push forward or lean back? Strike or defend? Either way - maintain cool. At all times. Do not rise, do not react. Watch. Monitor. Calculate.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep: Update:
Situation: Under Control
Situation class update:
Concerning: 0 killed, 0 missing, 0 wounded.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
“Alright, Haught, just get a move on. The match is about to start.”
While Jeremy fiddled with the laptop DNS settings and Nicole wrestled with the projector screen, Dolls took a long pull on his beer, then took a moment to centre himself. If anyone accused him of using mindfulness techniques to maintain is cool and put-together exterior he’d deny it. But that’s exactly what he was doing.
Exhale slowly through the mouth. Hold for 5 beats. Inhale through the nose, hold. Repeat...
He credited ‘being in the moment’ with hearing the mild commotion outside the BBD office doors before the others seemed to. He could tell immediately that Waverly had made an entrance, probably looking for Nicole. Lonnie’s muffled whine drifted down the hallway.
“Sorry, you can’t go in there.”
Everyone heard Waverly’s loud exclamation in reply. “Excuse me? I can’t go into my own office? I work here too you know!”
Nicole quickly abandoned the projector, looking guiltily up at Dolls.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...
“Haught! What did you do!?”
“Nothing! I told her absolutely nothing. We got into a huge fight about keeping secrets actually, thank you very much guys.”
Jeremy at least had the good grace to look sorry about it. Dolls just glared. “Haught, go and deal with your girlfriend before she crashes through here like a…”
It was too late. The door crashed open revealing a very annoyed Waverly Earp.
“Wiretap, my ass!” She exclaimed, waving her hand at the room. “It’s all lies and sneaky subterfuge! Will one of you three secrety squirrels please tell me why Lonnie tried to stop me coming in my own office?
Dolls felt the air being sucked involuntarily from his lungs. For a second, just a brief moment in time, he thought maybe, it might be possible, that someone had cast a spell on the room. Time seemed to slow, as if they were caught in a Matrix style bullet-time effect.
Nicole was caught mid-stride towards the door. Jeremy was balanced precariously, tipped back in his chair and Dolls found his arm half way to putting down his freshly opened beer bottle.
The seconds ticked by like eons until, simultaneously, Nicole tripped, falling flat on her face, Dolls dropped the beer, bottle smashing to the floor and Jeremy tipped the chair so far backwards he tumbled out of it, loudly crying out “My eyes!” at a pitch that would rival the best Barry Gibb impersonator.
In her anger, Waverly had spread open her long winter coat to place her hands on her hips, leg cocked to one side as she waited for an answer. It was clearly muscle memory that made her do it, rather than any sense of situational awareness or self preservation.
Holy fuck… I can never unsee this… go to your happy place, Dolls.
Shit, cricket night is my happy place…
I can’t…
React dammit! Stop staring!
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
Personnel update: Consultant Waverly Earp has crash-landed on scene
Situation update: Control under threat
Situation class update: Worrying: 0 killed, 0 missing, 0 wounded.
Open Action Update:
- PROTECT EYES
- Apply scorched earth tactics to short term memory
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Dolls forced movement to his shell-shocked body. He turned to rescue Jeremy, effectively shielding himself from the sight of Waverly’s outfit. He was a man of few words, and wouldn’t know a bustier from a babydoll so the only way he could describe what he saw was that whatever Waverly was wearing was about a square inch away from being officially termed ‘cloth’ rather than its more mature cousin ‘clothing’.
As he attended to Jeremy, Dolls heard a sharp gasp and what sounded like a coat being aggressively pulled back around a body. It was distinctly Waverly’s voice chanting “Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuckin’ fudgenuggets!”, and Nicole’s harmonising with a chorus of “I’m sorry! I’m so, so, sorry!”
“Sorry! Tell that to my underwear Nicole!”
“Wake me when it’s over!” Jeremy declared blindly to the room, hands covering his eyes.
Nicole held her beet-red and re-coated girlfriend tightly in her arms and backed her towards the shower block, grabbing Wynonna’s abandoned gym bag on the way. “This isn’t what it looks like!” Nicole shouted back to Dolls. It was unclear if she meant Waverly’s clear intentions for the evening or Nicole’s apparent failure to see out the consequences of their bet.
Yes it is Haught. It’s the end of my happy place. And the beginning of a thousand new nightmares to haunt my dreams. This just keeps getting better and better...
“You can open your eyes now Jeremy. Can you please just load the game. Let’s watch as much as we can before it gets… interrupted, again”
Dolls couldn’t help fire a frown towards the shower block, his stoic mask cracking just for a second.
I’m losing control of this situation... Analyse... Return advantage to team Dolls. First, master self.
He tried to recenter himself by concentrating on his breathing. As he slipped into a meditative state, Dolls could feel the slight disturbance in the air caused by the projector fan firing up, smell the stale beer splashed across the floor, and taste the bitterness of his reality not matching his vision of how the night would proceed.
Turning to his broken beer bottle, Dolls made careful and calculated micro movements. Larger pieces of glass were placed into an old newspaper, smaller pieces joining them from a brush and shovel set.
A piece of glass cut his thumb. He never cut himself. He held his hand up to the light, utterly incredulous.
… Blood. Huh. That’s right, I bleed… Medic! Medic for the drama llama...
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
Situation class update: Troubling: 0 killed, 2 missing, 1 wounded.
Open Action Update:
- Staunch bleeding
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Everything in Dolls’ life was a battle of control, exactly like a batswoman standing in position at the crease. Every movement a study in contained aggression, controlled precision. Decision making based on well-honed muscle memory, each shot selection and its execution calculated to bring maximum return, but also carrying the weight of potential disaster as opposing forces moved to contermand every action.
Dolls had to control his emotions. Control his body. Control the beast within. And he was a master at it.
Until the Earps. Now his life was a futile struggle to regain control after losing it.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep: update:
You are still bleeding profusely.
Action required.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Dolls let the blood flow down his thumb unstaunched, utterly focussed on it’s uncontrolled path. It pooled slightly at the base of his palm before meandering down his wrist, following paths directed by his unique vein patterns before quickly hurtling straight down to his elbow.
Three drops made it to the floor, mixing with the beer stain before Jeremy suddenly noticed and sprung into action.
“Oh my god, Dolls! I’ll get the first aid kit!” He darted out of the room and swiftly returned with the large, overstocked station kit.
Dolls heard Lonnie call out “Holy Shit! What did Waverly do!?” as the BBD door slammed.
Jeremy put on a voice as he fussed with the kit, trying to lighten the mood, “The games’ only just started and there’s already blood on the floor! Let’s not make this a habit of Cricket Club awright, Boss Man?” He quickly returned to silence as Dolls’ glare bore into his soul.
We aren’t calling this a club! ‘Club’ implies membership. There is no membership here. I work alone. Always. I am a lone wolf… dragon… dragonwolf?
Unbidden, a trailing thought slammed Dolls between the eyes.
Incoming information: But… I’m not alone anymore. I have a pack. I’m a dragonwolf that’s going to need his pack. Now more than ever.
The two men shared a brief look after Jeremy expertly assessed and cleaned the cut, attaching a small bandage. “No stitches needed but you should probably keep this on until the bleeding stops.” Jeremy offered, studiously avoiding further eye contact.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
Sensitive information: Dragon status - Serum effectiveness REDACTED. Body integrity REDACTED.
Closed Actions:
- Bleeding staunched
Open Actions:
- Cancel Coup de grâce
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Dolls suspected that Jeremy knew about his health. They hadn’t overtly spoken about it, not yet. Jeremy was doing his best not to coddle or interfere but Dolls could sense him, ever vigilantly paying constant attention to him. It set him on edge. Hell, everything was setting him on edge lately and it all ate away at his infamous self-control.
In the background, Dolls barely noticed the game continuing, the sound of the first wicket falling becoming background hum to the thoughts whirling through his head. All thoughts of ‘mindfulness’ completely obliterated as he allowed Jeremy to finish cleaning up the broken glass.
Dolls could still hear Waverly berating Nicole in the shower block, probably more out of embarrassment than any real anger. Sounds involving the words ‘communication’, ‘open to interpretation’ and ‘I promise I’ll make it up to you over and over again before the sun rises today’ pierced the office like malicious sunbeams determined to find Dolls and burn his ears.
Both men sat uncomfortably, each pretending they couldn’t hear the full argument, even after turning the game commentary up to the highest level possible. Dolls desperately wanted the evening to be over and it hadn’t even properly started yet. He’d had enough.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
Open Actions: update:
- Get head out of own ass
- Regain control
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Dolls stood suddenly, startling Jeremy. He more or less roared through the doorway. “Haught! Earp! Get your assess out here, I can’t hear the game through all the angst.”
As they made their way back into the main office, Nicole looked like the emotional equivalent of a battered teething toy. Although still looking embarrassed, Waverly was now more suitably attired in an oversized PPD hoodie Nicole had scrounged from somewhere combined with Wynonna’s maternity yoga pants. Oddly, it was a look.
Now, to get them to sit still, sit quietly and let me watch the game
“Is this it Nicole?” Waverly gestured towards game. “The secret they wouldn’t let you tell me is that you all watch cricket in the dead of night?”
“Uhhh… yeah. I did say it was banal…”
“No new massively dangerous Revenant? No supercharged variant of the Hantavirus spread by weremice? Not even secret wives, or… or a secret romance between these two idiots?”
Jeremy choked on his beer.
What?
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
...pending…
/////////////////////////////////////////////
“Oh, come on…” As Jeremy continued to turn a brighter shade of tomato, Waverly took pity on him and turned her teasing tone towards Dolls. “It would’ve made a good story, and an even better romance novel cover if you two were up late at night, sucking up BBD resources doing the nasty on that couch... and both those tables, then the wall and finally the shower block, right?”
Dolls had the feeling that Waverly had put far too much thought into that scenario. Sure enough, a glance at Nicole revealed more than he ever wanted to know about his pack sistren.
“It’s a better story than ‘we all stay up real late to drink beer and watch cricket’.” Waverly trailed off.
Intel overload. Regain control. Maneuver your pieces. Master the situation...
“Waverly.” Dolls quickly interrupted. “In answer to all your questions, yes. All this angst has been for a game of Cricket. Nicole joined us to watch a match two nights ago and I trapped her into agreeing to hide it from everyone, not just you, because I hate interruptions and I don’t want to explain what’s going on every five seconds. I. Just. Want. To. Watch. My. Game.”
Oblivious to Dolls’ tone, Waverly looked over to her girlfriend, concerned that she wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “Wait. Trapped her how?”
Jeremy jumped in nervously, “We got her plumb LBW my friend. Leg before wicket. Nicole was ‘out’ bet by Mr Cricket himself here.” He slapped Dolls on the back awkwardly, instantly regretting it as he shook his hand in pain.
Ignoring Jeremy, Dolls continued his explanation. “The rest of your research is being shipped back here from cold storage in the city. I promised to return it all to you if Nicole kept her mouth shut. It makes sense to have it here where you can make proper use of it Waverly, so it was win/win from my perspective.”
Waverly moved to embrace her girlfriend, all tension suddenly gone from her small frame. “You did that for me?”
“Yeah…” Nicole admitted, then bent to whisper in Waverly’s ear. “I’ll always choose my girl over a stupid boys club.”
Urggh. Cricket. Get them all back on to the Cricket. Sit. Enjoy the game. You own the situation. You’re in control. Remain calm, Dolls.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
Situation class downgraded: Worrying: 0 killed, 2 missing personnel relocated, 1 walking wounded.
Open Action Update:
- Regain control
- Focus on game
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
“Haught, you’ve got 10 minutes to explain the basics then the same rules apply to Waverly as they did for you.” He started to count the conditions off on his hands. “No talking for the first innings, intelligent analysis only thereafter, and…” He couldn’t think of a third condition. Thankfully, Jeremy jumped right in.
“Oh and full participation in any and all betting activity is required, or you’re ‘OUT’ of Cricket Club.” Jeremy smiled at his cricket joke.
“You want me to join you”? Waverly sounded surprised. “I kinda thought you’d try and throw me out…”
“Would it have worked?” Dolls quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Well, no. Probably not. I’m tired of being thrown out of this office. I’m here, and I’m staying, Dolls.”
“That’s what I thought.” Dolls muttered in resignation.
“Oh! Is this a women’s game?” Waverly moved in closer to Nicole who gave her a brief rundown of the game set-up and Dolls studiously tried not to get more visibly annoyed by the interruption.
His failure came with a loud knock at the door.
“GODDAMMIT!”
“Nicole? We’ve got a call out.” Lonnie called through the glass.
Nicole jumped up to ensure Lonnie didn’t burst in, ushering him quickly back to the bullpen for an argument about who would attend.
In her absence, Waverly pulled out her phone and began incessantly typing. She periodically flicked her eyes up the coverage, sometimes to Dolls himself. He could tell she was itching to ask questions being generated by her phone research.
When she remained silent, even after Nicole’s return, Dolls felt some of the tension dissipate.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
Situation class downgraded: Concerning: 0 killed, 0 missing, 1 walking wounded.
Open Action Update:
- Engage relaxation mode
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Slowly, Dolls felt himself relax more into the company. Snacks were handed out, moments of tension in the game shared with collective intakes of breath, and Waverly continued her typing, silently finding the answers to all her questions.
At the innings break, Dolls, Jeremy and Nicole turned to Waverly expectantly, as if her next words would legitimise a new Pope.
No one else spoke for the next 15 minutes as Waverly gave an off-the-cuff presentation on not only the history of women’s international cricket, but the outcomes of the last five series between the two countries, complete with individual players statistics and a prediction for who would win tonight’s game.
“What? Guys, did I go all ‘Lecturer Earp’ on you? Was it too much?” The three pairs of eyes continued to stare at her.
Breaking the silence, Dolls couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Excellent analysis Earp.” It was a repeat performance of the last game, where Nicole had similarly startled him with her insights.
Why do I keep underestimating my pack? That was… brilliant. Dolls thought. He felt his earlier irritation slide away and an enveloping sense of kinship settle on him. I don’t have to hide this part of me at least. We can enjoy this together. Chill restored. Control established.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
Situation: Under Control
Situation class downgraded: New Normal: 0 killed, 0 missing, 1 walking wounded.
Open Action Update:
- Have fun
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Jeremy leapt from the table to drag Waverly over to his Mac. “Oh my God Waverly, you wanna be secretary of Cricket Club! Come look at my player comparison database!”
Dolls caught Nicole’s eye and couldn’t help but grin at her obvious discomfort. Nicole was a sucker for her girlfriends big, beautiful brain and it had just put on a megawatt display for her. She was clearly trying not to stare at Waverly with massive doe-eyes. She was failing.
Now, this was a situation he could control, he could manipulate. Nicole would be putty in Dolls’ hands.
“Alright Haught, fine. Waverly can stay. But she’s wrong, India aren’t going to win this match.”
“Wanna bet” Nicole quickly retorted, easily lured by the distraction.
“Yeah Dolls, wanna bet”? Waverly moved to join Nicole, weaving her arm around her waist, leaning into her side. Nicole immediately looked fifty times more uncomfortable.
“Oooooo Waverly, You don’t wanna bet with Dolls…” Jeremy tried to warn her.
Waverly was determined to stick to her prediction. “Dolls, We bet you that India will win this game.”
“Yeah...” Nicole clearly wanted to support Waverly but her tone betrayed how wary she was of betting with Dolls after her last experience.
“If they do, then you both have until the next edition of our little gathering to get Wynonna to willingly and enthusiastically join us.” Waverly smiled, delighted with her suggestion.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep):
Situation update: Control under imminent threat - RED ALERT!
Situation class upgraded: Awful: 0 killed, 0 missing, 1 walking wounded.
Open Actions:
- Sound General Quarters!
- Scramble the jets!
- Battle formation!
- Dive, dive, dive!
Report ends.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Dolls outer mask remained in place, even as his inner world began to collapse around him, like wet cake at a pool party.
Nicole turned her head quizzically to Waverly. “Why would Wynonna want to...”
“I just really want her to get out of the Homestead for a bit and do something that doesn’t involve killing something!” she whispered to Nicole. “I know she probably wouldn’t enjoy it but… to be honest, they’ve got as much chance of actually making it happen as we would convincing Doc.”
“That’s it”! Jeremy jumped in again. “If India win, we’ll get Wynonna here for the next game and if Sri Lanka win, you guys have to get Doc. We can use any means necessary to get them here but they have to be happy and enthusiastic. They can’t be here under duress.”
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
...pending…
...system errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrror...
…Core at critical mass...
…Meltdown imminent...
...Evacuate your homes...
...Have a nice day...
/////////////////////////////////////////////
“By any means necessary?” clarified Nicole
Jeremy grinned. “We just have to think of a ‘failure to deliver’ forfeit...”
“Oooo! I know! Tattoos!” Waverly clapped her hands excitedly. Losers have to get a tattoo of the winners choice.”
“Waverly! NO! I can’t get a tattoo with my job! Plus I don’t want a flaming phoenix all up my butt! Uh… uh… unless, that’s something you like”? Nicole was unconsciously rubbing the back of her neck with nerves, her pupils dilated in total panic. Much like Dolls’ inner monologue.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
DIMSitRep:
...system rebooting…
Situation: Control lost
Situation class upgraded: Cataclysmically awful: 3 impending murders...
…system errrrrrrrrrrrrorrrrrrrrrrrrrr…
If you look to your left, you will see the beautiful spectacle of Mt Etna erupting.
There is no hope of escape.
Pyroclastic flows of poisonous gas and ash will hit this bus in 3, 2, 1...
/////////////////////////////////////////////
“No silly, there’d be rules. Somewhere normally hidden… Oooo! Right butt-cheek, no bigger than… your badge!” Waverly sounded delighted with her suggestions, in complete juxtaposition to the enthusiasm levels of everyone else in the room.
“Oh my god, this isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.” Dolls had begun muttering. Out loud. It drew everyone’s attention.
“Ahhhh, you alright there Dolls?”
“No. I’m not doing this. This is my Cricket Club. Mine.” He sounded like a lost child.
“You said Cricket Club!” Jeremy was delighted, joy splitting his face into a huge grin.
“What? No, Jeremy, we aren’t calling it that…”
Nicole smiled, warming to the idea of the bet now that Dolls was so obviously discomforted by it. She seemed to be enjoying his difficulty processing the situation. “Hmmmm, Dolls seems a little reluctant to play by his own rules tonight. Weren’t we all supposed to participate in any and all betting activity?”
Dolls was hoist by his own petard. He knew it. The only way to regain control now was was to play, and win.
His head rose slowly, and began to nod his silent assent as he looked them all directly in the eye.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
...system rebooting…
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Jeremy broke the awkward silence first. “Okay. It’s settled. Should the losing pair fail to get their assigned hot mess here to fully enjoy the next game with us, there WILL be a tattoo getting forfeit enforced by the winning pair, and guys... I know exactly what it should be.”
Jeremy’s suggestion instantly gained everyone’s full attention. It was truly horrible.
Dolls could see the internal debate both Waverly and Nicole were having as fear and competitive desire to win at all costs raged. Jeremy’s suggestion was perfectly pitched to stoke the fires of schadenfreude latent in everyone. Dolls had already decided. He wanted to win just so he could enjoy the looks on their faces when they lost and easily outweighed any thought that he might actually lose the bet. It seemed everyone was in agreement as they each solemnly shook each others hands and settled down to watch the final overs.
Nicole and Waverly sat quietly, close together with their fingers interlaced, trying to look calm and collected as the final innings wore down. Jeremy and Dolls sat in their desk chairs as far away as they could get from the two women. Their expressions conveyed mounting sickness and dread as the game came further down to the wire.
The result hinged on the final ball of the match.
Suddenly all was chaos.
Dolls and Nicole found themselves standing next to each other, unconsciously clutching at each others clothing as the final ball was hit in the air and sailed towards both the boundary and an attending fielder.
Then the screaming started.
And then Wynonna burst in.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
...system rebooted…
...update pending…
DIMSitRep:
Personnel update:Wynonna Earp has cluster-fucked the scene
Situation update: Control obliterated
Situation class upgraded: End of Days: All is lost
Open Action Update:
- Nothing can be done
Report self-destructs
Goodbye
/////////////////////////////////////////////
“WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED!” Wynonna’s demand was loud enough to rattle the glass in the office doors, but Dolls barely heard her through the shock. He’d lost the bet. Nicole and Waverly had won. His inner cool had abandoned him and he was adrift in the sea of self-pity.
“It can’t be done. Need to find a way out...” Dolls continued to whisper to himself which only seemed to fan the flames of Wynonna’s ire.
“Guys. This might not be the most appropriate time to remind you but I have A GUN!” Wynonna was still holding Peacemaker loosely pointed at the ceiling. “I am STILL standing here listening to you idiots idioting about. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING HANSON, JUST TELL ME WHAT…”
“Dollshastogetyoutojoinourcricketclub!” Jeremy managed to blurt out. Wynonna turned her full attention to Jeremy who withered under her stare.
“Excuse me?” She scoffed. “I do not watch sports for entertainment purposes. If you need to steal a hella-possesed sports trophy, then I’m obviously your girl, but joining your Clandestine Cricket Club? A-hell no.”
Wynonna’s immediate refusal to even entertain the idea caused a vaguely inhuman growl to emit from Dolls whose face had sunk further into the hammock created by his hands.
“Sorry guys but the only rule of of your loser-cricket-club should be to never tell me anything about loser-cricket-club in case I die instantly from a critical mass of indifference.” Looking up from his hands plaintively, Dolls could see that Wynonna was rapidly losing interest in the situation and was moving towards the door.
“I came here in good faith to find Doc and get my leg over, if you know what I mean... “
“Jesus, everyone knows what you mean Wynonna.” Waverly interrupted.
“And instead, I find this weird shitshow going on. There is definitly no Doc here, so I am getting the hell out. Right now.”
“Wait, you haven’t heard the best bit!” Nicole was practically falling over herself to tell Wynonna about the forfeit.
“I don’t care Haughtstuff. Get back to your job! Actually, all of you get back to work for god's sake. I’m the only loose cannon we can afford around here. It’s my job so hands off. You're all making me look good and I don't appreciate it!” Her disapproving stare managed to silence the room. “Laters jock-straps”
“Wynonna! Wait!” Dolls called out after her, but she flipped him a backwards bird with so much attitude he felt like an Albatross had sat on him. It was a weight of resignation. He’d lost.
“Weeeeell, cricket club was fun guys and I’m really looking forward to seeing you all here, plus Wynonna in two days time. But right now I’ve got an abundance of underwear and a super sexy girlfriend who gets off in an hour, so… we’ve got some business to attend to” Waverly gave Nicole a pointed look and led her from the room by her tie.
Dolls wondered if he should write up that uniform as a safety violation.
“Thanks for a great night guys! Hope you enjoyed it too!”
Dolls had not had a great night. In fact, he was barely functional. How in the hell did he get here? He had to get Wynonna to the next edition of Cricket Club. Dammit! Dolls thought. I’m not calling it that! I’m NOT!
There had to be a way out of this. Think Dolls! Regain control!
“This is your fault.” Dolls stared intently at Jeremy who visibly gulped.
“It’s going to be okay, alright? I will make it okay. By any means necessary, I will make it okay.”
“You better Jeremy, otherwise we’re both gonna have Wynonna’s face tattooed on our asses…”
Notes:
Ha, ha, ha! Dolls.
Can someone who can draw please make a romance novel cover of Dolls and Jeremy having a secret cricket watching tryst at BBD? Maybe in the style of @lesbianpulpbot on Twitter. I mean, I can draw stick figures but...
According to the ICC Women’s Twenty20 International Playing Conditions (July 2018):
36 LEG BEFORE WICKET - 36.1 Out LBW
The striker is out LBW if all the circumstances set out in clauses 36.1.1 to 36.1.5 apply:
- 36.1.1 The bowler delivers a ball, not being a No ball
- 36.1.2 the ball, if it is not intercepted full-pitch, pitches in line between wicket and wicket or on the off side of the striker’s wicket
- 36.1.3 the ball not having previously touched her bat, the striker intercepts the ball, either full-pitch or after pitching, with any part of her person
- 36.1.4 the point of impact, even if above the level of the bails, either is between wicket and wicket or if the striker has made no genuine attempt to play the ball with the bat, is between wicket and wicket or outside the line of the off stump.
- 36.1.5 but for the interception, the ball would have hit the wicket.
Even I don’t understand the not-exactly-English above so maybe watch this explanation of the LBW law? It’s even more confusing but you get to listen to the dulcet tones of Stephen Fry’s voice so it’s only a mildly wasteful way to spend two minutes of your life.
Chapter 5: How to get out BOWLED
Summary:
It’s Jeremy’s job to deal with the fall out of losing the bet with Nicole and Waverly but how far is he willing to go to literally save Dolls’ ass? Spoiler alert: Pretty damn far!
Notes:
Sorry for the late post of this final chapter. Something… happened. Wynonna and Jeremy went to the city and I ended up writing a completely different story inside this one so I had to try and gather ‘Wyneremy’ back in. It was like herding barely toilet trained three year olds out of a trampoline park at Easter… Not that I’ve had experience doing that or anything :/
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
THURSDAY
I wonder who first thought to rub a Cricket ball into the groin of their trousers to shine it up?
Red leather and white cotton pants?
The laundry bills for test-match players must be horrendous.
Jeremy sat at at his desk in the BBD offices, his mind wandering between idle cricket musings and the utter ‘Earpferno’ that was the previous evenings edition of Cricket Club.
Oh God! My ass! I don’t want a tattoo of Wynonna! I don’t want Dolls to have to get a tattoo of Wynonna. I don’t want Wynonna to make us get a tattoo of Wynonna! I don’t want! Wynonna! Arghhhh!
Every time he thought about his self-imposed mission to get Wynonna to happily attend the next game in order to avoid the ass forfeit of doom, Jeremy felt like a small sandbag applied to his chest was gradually filling up. Like a sinister hourglass spun to measure how long he had to pull off the impossible, it weighed him down to his chair, committing him to inaction.
So Jeremy sat. And sat. The longer he sat, the more difficult it was to form cohesive thoughts on the situation.
Come on, focus, Jeremy! What’s your groin telling you to do? Urrrr, It’s telling me there’s no way out this time. There’s no way to fix this. Is there? But oh, I really need to fix this! I need to save Dolls’ ass!
He was using a cricket ball as a makeshift fidget spinner, carefully tossing it in the air and catching it in one hand. The ball spun quickly, tumbling over and over like Jeremy’s thoughts. Thoughts he was so utterly lost in, Jeremy completely failed to notice Wynonna’s presence in the room until she spoke up right next to him.
“Jesus Jeremy, do you ever leave the office?”
“Argh, Wynonna!” Jeremy dropped his ball in surprise. “You need to wear a bell or something!” His normal social awkwardness failed to reboot in time for his usual prevarications and stuttering and he found himself ignoring the question and getting straight to the point.
“What do I have to do to get you to turn up for Cricket Club tomorrow night!”
Wynonna sighed as she flopped herself in a chair in front of Jeremy’s desk, suspicion clouding her face.
“What is up with this shit, Science? Why do you care if I join your weird little club or not?”
Bizarrely, Wynonna sounded uncertain of herself. Like she didn’t really believe that anyone might actually want her around. It kind of broke his heart for a second. Jeremy knew exactly what that felt like.
Contemplating this shared vulnerability, Jeremy was silent a beat too long. In order to make up for it, he leapt to respond, somewhat unthinkingly. “Dolls is my friend. It’s my turn to literally save his ass, like he has for me so many times before. I need you to come along, Wynonna. As his friend, will you please do this for him?”
“Okay.” Wynonna scoffed. “I’ll rephrase my question. How is me turning up to watch the world's most boring sport with all of you sports watching losers going to ‘literally save Dolls’ ass’.” Wynonna’s air quotes hung between them as Jeremy realised his mistake.
Ohhhhh, shiiiiit...
Too tired to resist Wynonna’s unwavering icy blue stare, Jeremy continued riding the honesty train right off the broken tracks. “If you don’t turn up tomorrow then Nicole and Waverly will enforce the forfeit.”
“Which iiiiiiiiis?” Wynonna encouraged, eyebrows raised in anticipation of the answer.
If he had been playing a game of cricket, this would be the moment where Jeremy chopped the ball down onto his own stumps, effectively bowling himself out with his own words.
“We both have to get your face tattooed on our ass.”
The noise Wynonna produced at this, was so unique, so loud and vociferous that Sheriff Nedley peeked through the door, checking that some sort of emergency supernatural bullshit wasn’t about to destroy the building.
Instead, he found a near non-functional Wynonna Earp slowly falling out of her chair, her lungs now straining to gather enough air as she laughed hard enough to put severe strain on her pelvic floor.
“Spell?” Nedley nodded towards Jeremy.
“No, Sir, nothing like that. I just…” Jeremy frowned at the body sliding to the linoleum. “...told a really funny joke.”
Nedley’s eyebrows twitched slightly but otherwise his face remained as seriously steadfast as always. “Alright then. Carry on.” He said as he closed the office door.
“Come on Wynonna…” Jeremy pleaded as he waited for her to calm down enough to resume their conversation. “It’s not that funny.”
Wynonna slowly drew breath. “Yes it is... IT IS! Now I understand why Waves and Haughtstuff were so excited to win! Can you... Can you imagine…” Wynonna was struggling to draw breath. “...I’d be the ultimate, permanent clit-block!” Wynonna seemed to immediately sober, as if her imagination ran away with her and accidentally ended up in a war zone instead of eloping to Tahiti.
“On second thought, let’s not imagine the mechanics of my baby sister’s sex life and move on to how cute you boys are both gonna look with this…” Wynonna pointed at her face and flicked her hair melodramatically “... permanently gracing your beautiful heinies.”
“Wynonna, no, please...”
“You better have great skin Jeremy ‘cos I won’t have butt pimples maring this visique.”
“Wynonna!”
“I’ll buy you some acne cream and bring it in tomorrow.”
“Uhhh...”
“Oh, I’ll even drive you into the city myself. There’s a great place about a block from the Doughnut shop I’m trespassed from.”
Jeremy was getting desperate to regain her attention now. He had to get her to sit down and take negotiating seriously.
“WYNONNA!”
“JEREMY!” Wynonna replied in equal volume, a shit-eating, teasing grin amping up Jeremy’s frustrations.
“Wy, I need to stop this from happening to Dolls.”
“Careful now Jeremy. A girl might start to feel offended by your refusal to enthusiastically agree to such a beautiful piece of body art.” Wynonna’s tone, although light, carried a mildly threatening undercurrent that never ceased to turn Jeremy’s heart to ice whenever he heard it.
Jeremy tried back-tracking, unconsciously rolling his chair away from Wynonna as he spoke. “Oh, ahhhh yeah, um, the tattoo would be, like, ‘the bomb’, obviously but, you know Dolls. He’s just very particular about his body you know? No tattoos, careful diet, punishing exercise regime to maintain those chiseled pecs and biceps.”
“Nope. Don’t care. You’re both getting those tattoos Jer-bear.” And with that sudden declaration, Wynonna jumped up and left the room, leaving Jeremy open mouthed, choking in disbelief. The entire conversation had blown up in his face. It was a firestorm. Earpferno 2.0.
He had entertained the thought, for the briefest moment in time, that he might, finally, maybe, kinda, get to pay the hero. That he might be the one to fix everything and save Dolls’ ass.
But I’ve fluffed it already! It’s only taken five minutes and one conversation for my wicket to fall, the bails have clattered to the ground like spent bullet casings.
No amount of poetic musing was going to alleviate the mounting anxiety he was feeling. How could he pull off the impossible? Jeremy sighed and leaned back in his chair propping his feet up on the desk. He enjoyed the slight feeling of weightlessness he managed to achieve with the position.
Heroes always win, right?
“Well, as Waverly would say, ‘The situation is balls’, Jeremy. Now what?” He picked up the cricket ball and restarted his fidgeting, desperate to fire up his ‘big brain’ and come up with a fool-proof, Wynonna-proof plan.
Okay Jeremy. Step One: Get Wynonna to talk to you. That’s all you have to do today dude. Open a dialogue then work out the rest tomorrow after a good long sleep. Time to get moving.
It seemed a simple enough mission.
It was not.
By mid-afternoon, Jeremy had failed to find Wynonna again until he hit up the coffee shop for his fourth refill of the day. Before he could even say “Hi”, Wynonna had turned around and with a deep breath let out a long and loud “Nooooooooooooooooooo” which she managed to make last all the way to her truck. The door slammed in his face, blocking out the final note and Wynonna’s eventual intake of breath. She flipped him off as she drove away at speed.
His next encounter had him literally bumping into her as she left the station breakroom.
“Wynonna! Please, you need to hear what I can offer you...”
Jeremy found it impossible to continue as instead of replying, Wynonna simply kept bumping into him, causing him to stumble ever further backwards until he was bailed up against a door.
“Jeremy, are you seriously going to follow me in here?” She pointed up to a sign indicating the women’s restroom. “Because if you don’t move out of the way right the fuck now, I will literally lay out a red carpet for you to dance down as you accept the award of ‘best embarrassed expression in the face of awkward collegial discussion about menstruation.’”
“Ahhh!” Jeremy quickly slid to the floor and scrambled away, unwilling to stick around for another confrontation on her exit from the bathroom.
A couple of hours later, he finally cornered her again, this time playing a solo game of pool at Shorty’s bar.
“Oh look, it’s Aunt Flo Rida. Here to watch me at Shorty’s getting low, low, low, low?” Wynonna’s voice trailed off as she leaned forward to sink another ball on the table.
“Ha, ha, ha. Period jokes. Early naughties rap references. Nice one Wy.” Jeremy was beset by nerves again. He was so tired. But he had to get Wynonna to agree. For Dolls. This is it! Come on Jeremy! You can do this!
“I ahh, notice you’re playing pool.” Wynonna treated Jeremy to her best ‘no shit Sherlock’ glare. “Pool is sports! Maybe you do sports after all.”
Okay Jeremy, not the best start but she hasn’t run off yet.
“Jeremy I play pool to win money. It’s not sports, it’s a non-taxable income.”
“Um, what if attending Cricket Club was like, a job?”
“You’d pay me? How much?”
“Ah, how much would be enough to convince you to show up?”
“Around double whatever your final offer would be. What else have you got?”
“How about I open negotiations by setting us up with a tab?”
That got Wynonna’s attention. “I knew I liked you.” She winked at him. “All right Science, go get us some drinks and let’s talk.”
For some entirely inexplicable reason, Jeremy sighed in relief. Unfortunately for the fate of his ass, he was quickly and unceremoniously drunk under the table before the hour was out.
FRIDAY
Jeremy had never understood the saying ‘What goes on in Vegas, stays in Vegas’. Not until he had spent an entire day in Wynonna’s company.
One of his early drunken concessions had been to agree to the road trip from hell - to the city and back - with Wynonna as designated driver. It was utterly indescribable what she had managed to convince him to do on that trip. He had never in his life been so social, so ‘out-there’, or so wanted by the Police.
They had made it back to Purgatory with an hour to spare before the game started. Jeremy knew instantly, that every effort, humiliation and sacrifice he’d made had been worth it for the look of pure joy on Dolls’ face as they both walked into BBD. Wynonna was willingly and enthusiastically attending Clandestine Cricket Club. He had never felt more heroic in his life.
“How? Jeremy, how did you... “
Dolls’ elation was suddenly tempered as he took in more information from their appearance.
“Wait. First, tell me what you’re wearing. No, first tell me why you’re wearing it. No, I want to know where that came from.” Dolls pointed towards a large stuffed Giraffe. “No, I think I need to know what’s in the cricket bag first. Actually, nope. None of this computes. I can’t even speak anymore. This is… Overload. I’m done.”
As he threw his hands in the air in mock defeat, Wynonna smiled at Doll’s inability to English while Jeremy just blushed. They shared a brief look, one that spoke in lengthy autobiographies of shared experience. They nodded agreement that what went on the city, would stay in the city. A secret just for them.
“Well Dolls, I can tell you that Agent Jeremy Chetri is sporting the latest in Fall fashion, a rainbow patterned onesie complete with faux-fur bushy baby Squirrel tail, fake bum-flashing print and back-flap. He carries with him the ultimate accessory - a giant, talking ‘Gerald the Giraffe’ plushie.”
Catching on to Wynonna’s shtick, Jeremy pushed the button on the toy causing a tinny voice to cry “Giraffe’s can dance” while he walked catwalk styles between the office desks. He threw what he thought was an alluring look over his shoulder back towards Dolls as he turned, but in truth he just managed to look constipated.
“Uhhhh, and Wynonna?” Dolls deflected.
“And Wynonna has the fashion world buzzing with her latest look for Shark week. Her Hammerhead onesie is sure to have hearts stopping on the beach while her ‘I love Llamas’ trucker hat let’s you all know she’s a softie at heart, as soft as her beautiful woolly Ugg boots…”
“Hey - I’m not soft!” Wynonna complained as she completed her own fake catwalk strut.
“Ohhh, no, the soft is just a front to hide the tough interior of the warrior maiden that gained that wicked bruise under her eye.”
“Yeah, you should see the other girl. Nothing can stand between me and this fine 4.5 litre bottle of Johnnie Walker Red!” Wynonna reached into the Cricket gear bag Jeremy had thrown over his shoulder and pulled from a side pocket the largest bottle of whisky Dolls had seen in a long while.
“Hey, that’s some top-shelf stuff there Earp.” Dolls admired.
“Speaking of ‘Red’, hey there Ginger Spice.” Wynonna gave a loud parp on a vuvuzela quickly retrieved from the bag as she spied Nicole arriving. “Aaaaand Baby Spice too! The whole family is here, minus one noticeably absent ancient cowboy man. But I am ready and willing for some hot sports action!”
The tooting continued as Dolls and Jeremy turned to watch the spectacle that was the evolving expressions on the faces of Nicole and Waverly as they walked into BBD.
“How in the hell?” Nicole managed to whisper out.
The grins worn by both women as they entered the office slowly slid from their faces as they wavered between surprise, horror and curiosity, completely bowled over by Wynonna’s presence.
“Why are you here? What the flying fudge are you wearing? Oh my god! Who punched you in the face!?”
“Right there with you Waverly.” Dolls shook his head as Jeremy led him aside while Wynonna repeated the show-off of her onesie for the new arrivals.
”Um, Dolls? I kinda had to make a few ‘concessions’, to get Wynonna to be here.”
“It’s all right. I don’t even care, Jeremy. She’s here. You pulled off the impossible. You are a genius wizard dressed as a rainbow squirrel and I think I kind of love you for it. Just, not like that.” Dolls offered with a kind smile.
“Yeah, I know.” Jeremy replied, beaming with pride nonetheless. “I get it. You’re straight, not a Giraffe, right?” Jeremy waved the Gerald plushie in his face with a smile.
Dolls face turned stern for a moment. “Jeremy. Are you high right now?”
“What? No! Not right now. Why?”
Before Dolls could answer, Jeremy had his attention rudely snatched away as he overheard Nicole say “So what’s in the bag?”
“NO!” Jeremy and Wynonna shouted in unison, aggressively defending the bag from curious hands.
Nicole’s mouth did that thing she does when she’s both incredibly pissed off and highly suspicious all at once. Jeremy called it her ‘Good Cop eating Bad Cop’ face.
“Haughtshit, there is absolutely nothing of interest in that bag.” Wynonna snatched it away and tucked it under a nearby desk.
“Oh, except for this!” Jeremy ducked back down behind the desk and pulled out a brand new Grey and Nicholls cricket bat. “This is for you Dolls. A little thank you from me…”
“And me!” Wynonna jumped in quickly.
“...and Wynonna who drove me to the city to get it today. Look! It’s signed by Mithali Raj!”
“Woah! This is so… wow!” As Dolls admired the bat and practiced a few shots in the air no one noticed Nicole duck down behind the desk to take a look through the bag anyway.
“THERE IS A PENIS IN THIS BAG!”
“What?”
“What! Wynonna! You have a bag of dicks?” Jeremy wasn’t sure how Waverly was able to look both scandalised and intrigued in a single look, but there it was.
"NO! A bag with ‘A’ dick. Singular. A singular wang, and no, it’s none of your business why Jeremy and I now have joint custody of one.”
Nicole’s eyes darted up towards Jeremy, who shrank at the perplexed look on her face. “This penis is yours?”
Before he could begin a loud and vociferous denial, Wynonna cut him off. ”Nicole? Please never say the word ‘penis’ again. It’s fingernails on chalkboard levels of wrong." Wynonna pushed Nicole away. “Honestly I thought you’d react more to the severed limbs.”
“THE WHAT?!”
Waverly leaned over to take a look in the bag, pulling out the life-like member for all to see. "Huh, It's smaller than ours, baby..."
"WAVERLY!"
“Woah! TMI there baby girl!” Wynonna cringed away from both her sister and her girlfriend.
"And made from Plaster of Paris so not very useful." Waverly screwed up her nose, dropping it back in the bag in indifference. “Look, the ‘Madcap Adventures of Wynonna and Jeremy in the City’ are fascinating and all but none of this explains why you agreed to come along, Wy.”
“Didn’t you tell her about the tattoo?” Nicole asked Waverly.
“I already knew.” Wynonna interrupted, flicking a glance at Jeremy as she spoke. “And to be honest that convinced me for a full 12 hours not to turn up. I really wanted to see my face emblazoned across both of these fine little tushies.” she winked conspiritorily at Jeremy.
“But in the end I got a better offer, which changed the game for me.”
“A... better offer.”
“Yeah, Jeremy literally changed the game for me. We’re watching men’s rugby tonight.”
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
Okay. Nicole is officially pissed. Jeremy desperately avoided eye-contact lest he be drawn into a conversation he was not prepared to have right now. It was Dolls who rescued him. Temporarily.
“By any means necessary Haught and Earp. Any. Means. Necessary.” He seemed deliriously happy for a man whose private sports watching habit had become a public event. Jeremy looked at how relaxed Dolls seemed. Yeah, definitely worth it. He smiled to himself as he sat down gingerly at his desk. He began setting up the feed on his Mac as the argument continued around him.
“Rugby. The game where men mercilessly beat up other men for control of a leather peanut?” Waverly sounded incredulous.
“Actually, it’s more like a pistachio.” Dolls offered. “I forgot the All Blacks were playing France in New Zealand tonight. Good call Jeremy!” The praise caused Jeremy to beam.
“Yup, and I’ve heard of them baby girl!” Wynonna interrupted. “They’re the team that look like an army of Jason Momoa’s and Chris Hemsworth’s who run up and down that field in tiny tight shorts, right Jeremy?”
Jeremy sighed “Yeah. It’s pretty cool actually. Brutal, but cool.”
Waverly leaned into her girlfriend. “There has to be a way out of this right”?
“Ummmm….” Nicole made a move towards the door.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“There’s always a way out Waves. I’m going to throw the fire alarm.”
Wynonna’s shit-eating grin and accompanying cackle reverberated off the ceiling.
“What’s the matter Red? Can’t sit through 80 minutes of himbos with rippling muscles smushing suggestively together? You know, sometimes, their shorts come down in a ‘tackle’ and it aaaaall hangs out if you get what I’m saying.”
“We ALL get what you’re saying Wynonna. Thanks for the visual.” Waverly rolled her eyes at her sister, then sighed in resignation. “Well, I guess I don’t need this anymore.”
Jeremy looked over at Waverly and noticed her new crop top for the first time. He’d assumed it was some new logo Doc had rustled up for Shorty’s but now he looked at it, He could see the design was three interlocking C’s.
Ohhhh!
“Clandestine Cricket Club!” He shouted to the room. “You actually went and made a tee-shirt! Where can I get one? Ahhh, but an actual tee-shirt rather than the cropped variety you are so expertly modelling. I really don’t think I can pull off that look.”
Waverly smiled at Jeremy. “I know Jeremy. I already got you one.” She reached excitedly into a shopping bag Nicole had dropped off earlier and tossed him a shirt.
“Sweet! Look at that!” Jeremy held the shirt proudly up to his rainbow bedecked chest. “I’m in a club!” He looked over at Dolls and was surprised to see him smiling even though he seemed to be shaking his head in denial at the cutesy nickname.
With a mouth full of doughnut, Wynonna mumbled, “You know what ‘Triple C’ stands for right?”
“No, what?” Waverly responded, voice laden with apprehensive tension.
“Ohhhhhh.” Jeremy sighed as recognition for the phrase twinged in his brain “It’s a drug reference, isn’t it.” He joined Waverly in looking downcast at their shirts.
“Well, yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Clit’, ‘Crack’ and ‘C…’”
“Please! Do NOT finish that sentence.” Nicole hastily interrupted but not before her brain helpfully filled in the blank.
“Cha-cha-cha-chang! Here comes the Haught-censor! We both know that ended differently depending on which one of us recited it so excuse me Mrs Officer.” Wynonna retorted before turning her attention back to the screen.
“Did you just make an Ini Kamoze themed play on my last name!?”
“Nah, na, na, na, nah…” Wynonna’s shoulder dance and sing-song retort trailed off as the entire room stared blankly at her. “Look, it’s not my finest work. Can we just move on and enjoy the meatshow?”
“Well, this is entirely ruined for me now.” Waverly looked forlornly down at her shirt.
“Yeah, sorry Waves.” Jeremy handed his shirt back and wondered how to get the night back on track.
“Guys, guys. Look. They’ve lined up to do the haka.” Wynonna made a noise that may as well have been ‘phroar’. “Look at that dude!”
“Can we not spend the entire match objectifying the players, please?” Waverly picked up her phone to begin researching the rules rather than look where her sister was pointing.
“How is this even happening. I mean, what the hell? JEREMY! What? The hell?”
Oh great. Nicole’s still in denial and needs more explanation. I guess the cop never truly goes off duty.
“I still don’t get how changing the game to rugby and a new onesie was enough to get Wynonna here. What else did you do Jeremy?”
“Uhhhh…”
Nicole’s question had everyone’s attention, which was now fully focussed on Jeremy. His eyes flicked between each of his friends as he fumbled for words that wouldn’t come out.
Waverly and Nicole looked curious, like they just needed to understand the puzzle in front of them. Dolls seemed to be concerned he’d been kept out of the loop of important intel, and Wynonna? Well, she looked like she’d scored front row seats to the Jeremy Kyle show.
“What did you do Jeremy!” Waverly’s voice was kind but also brooked no defiance.
“APHRODITE MADE ME DO IT!” Jeremy shouted in panic, pointing at Wynonna, desperate to offload the attention from himself.
The pair shot laser pointer stares across the office at Wynonna, while Dolls frowned, firing a questioning glance back at Jeremy.
“What? Oh, come on guys. I’ve had had the best day getting to know Mr Science here just that little bit more… intimately.” She threw him that wink again.
Oh, god, I’m in so much trouble man.
Jeremy knew what was coming. He’d tried to get up out of his chair to back away from the impending interrogation and couldn’t help but wince as he stood.
“Jeremy? What’s wrong? Are you in pain? What are you hiding?”
“Nothing! I, uhhh. It’s nothing. Nothing at all”
“It’s not nothing Jeremy. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“Show them what you sacrificed to the clandestine cult of Cricket Jer-Bear!” Wynonna leaned over the back of the couch and prodded him in the ribs encouragingly. “Go on! Don’t be shy to show off what god gave you. Let’s see your tiny tushie and the work of art you now proudly bear in my honour.”
“Oh, no. Jeremy. You didn’t…” Waverly was aghast.
“Wynonna. Did you really make him do it?” Nicole was similarly appalled.
Dolls’ commanding tone silenced the room. “Jeremy. Show me your ass.”
“Ohhh, not the context I ever imagined hearing that sentence from your mouth Dolls…”
Jeremy couldn’t avoid it anymore. He turned and undid the tail-bearing butt-flap at the back of his onesie. Using his thumb, he hooked the fabric to one side revealing a small gauze pad. Which Wynonna unceremoniously ripped off, cackling all the while.
The others all leaned in to see.
“Huh…” Waverly looked at Nicole and Dolls in turn. “It’s not that bad, actually.”
“It’s not?” Jeremy struggled to turn around but couldn’t turn far enough to see. Dolls took out his phone and snapped a picture for him.
“Ohhhh. Wynonna! It’s… it’s beautiful.” Jeremy had tears in his eyes as he looked at the photo that revealed a small Red Admiral butterfly tattoo.
Jeremy looked up at his friends. They were all looking at Wynonna and smiling.
“Yeah, well don’t go all mushy on me or anything. Like I would force him to have my face tattooed on his ass.” She looked pointedly and Waverly and Nicole for doubting her.
“On our trip… You were actually listening when I rambled on about my mother and the butterfly?”
“I’m not deaf, Jeremy.” Wynonna quietly responded.
“You did this for me?” Dolls softly enquired.
I’d do a lot of things, ah, for you, Dolls. I know you haven’t been too keen on expanding Cricket club...” Dolls tried to give him another stern look but failed when he couldn’t help but smile at him. “...but look.” Jeremy gestured to the room. “We’re all here now and there’s no goo, or tentacles or things that go bump in the night. Just time well spent, with friends.”
“Family.” Dolls made sure to make eye contact, letting him know that would always include him. “Time well spent with family. You’re my hero, Jeremy. Thank you.”
Now it was Jeremy’s turn to feel bowled over. Dolls had called him his hero, and Wynonna’s eyes held the softest and kindest look he’d ever seen pointed in his direction. He couldn’t help the grin that enveloped him as each and every one of his friends smiled back at him.
A loud whistle noise broke their reverie as the game got underway on screen. The opening kick swirled in the wind but was caught by a French player leaping into the air, full of confidence his team mates would assist his fall. He was promptly taken out by a huge All Black player. You could practically hear the air being knocked from his lungs as he crumpled to the ground, prompting a collective wince of “Oooooooo!” from everyone in the room.
“Well, I do declare. What on earth is going on here”? Doc’s sudden arrival caused the collective “Oooooooo” to morph into a collective “Arghhhh!”
“Oh my god. I think I just peed a little.” Jeremy’s heart fluttered like a butterfly in heat.
“Doc! Hot men, 12 o’clock”! Wynonna pointed at the screen.
“I think that’s my cue to leave…”
As Doc turned on his heel, doffing his hat in Wynonna’s general direction, Jeremy stepped into his path, putting his hand up on Docs shoulder. “Doc, there’s no getting out of it. You may as well join in.”
“Sit your ass down Doc. It’s family time.” Added Wynonna.
“Well, when you put it like that…” Doc removed his hat and sauntered over the the couch.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Notes:
If you’re still here, thanks for reading this test match of a fic. In this chapter our favourite peeps just wouldn’t stop riling each other up, you know, like families do. As I mentioned above, Wynonna and Jeremy ran off to the city and got up to some very gay, very cray nonsense which I had to cut out to try and tame the chapter length. Should I post it as a one-shot? Let me know if you want to see the origin story for 'The Penis', the punch and the mystery of the severed limbs. ;)
Anyways, Thanks for your perseverance through this fic. I’m still learning about writing but it seems I just really like making them all do very silly things for very silly reasons. I’m sorry, I guess? Sorry in a way that’s pronounced ‘I’m-really-really-not-sorry’.
One more thing before you go. There are technically five other ways you can ‘get-out’ in Cricket. So of course I have tiny outlines for each one as a kind of B-sides collection of one-shots that I might write one day. They’re all set after Dolls’ death:
- hit wicket
- handled the ball
- hit the ball twice
- obstructing the field
- timed out
Only one of these is intended to be a Wayhaught one-shot. Can you guess which one?
P.S. My poor head canon couldn’t take it in the end. I couldn’t put a Wynonna tattoo on Jeremy’s ass! Again with the sorry-not-sorry but I-also-kinda-am-sorry.
According to the ICC Women’s Twenty20 International Playing Conditions (July 2018):
32.1 Out Bowled
- The striker is out Bowled if her wicket is put down by a ball delivered by the bowler, not being a No ball, even if it first touches the striker’s bat or person.
Also, If you want to watch Sri Lanka beat India, why not watch this? or, if for some reason your really want to, you can watch himbos running about here.
Chubby_Titan on Chapter 1 Fri 19 Apr 2019 12:18PM UTC
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