Sticks and Skates [Wayhaught]

You Could Use a Cold One Right Now

It was too late for this.

The Devils had just lost and Wynonna had had to help a security guard break up a drunken brawl between some of the fans leaving the game (which was so not in her job description, but admittedly more fun than cleaning up towels and doing laundry). She cursed the schedule rotation for putting her on locker room duty after the night's game. A long day at the rink was compounded by the fact that Waverly had left her at work to have a get together with Chrissy Nedley and Stephanie Jones, leaving her to do all the work herself.

Waverly's little party also meant that she was in no rush to get home anytime soon. She couldn't stand most of the people her sister called friends. Chrissy was alright, but Stephanie was an airhead and a bitch (but not in the fun way), and Champ was a downright douche—or moron, take your pick.

She cleared the visitor's locker room first, seeing as it was smaller and had less stuff left behind, and grumbled as she walked down the tunnel to the home locker room.

The Devils should've all been cleared out by now, she figured, so it came as a bit of a shock to her when she heard angry growling and the sound of something being flipped over from inside. Wynonna almost turned away to let whoever was clearly still in there make their way out, but she was also nothing if not nosy, and she pushed her way into the room anyway.

She heard a distressed: "God damn it!" and had to duck out of the way of a flying hockey helmet as she entered the locker room.

It was really too late for this.

"What the hell man?" She growled before she could even register her assailant. When she did look up, she saw a wide-eyed Nicole Haught looking absolutely mortified, alone in the locker room.

"Oh my God Wynonna, I'm so sorry, I don't know what got into me, and...and..." Nicole rambled apologetically, although uncharacteristically frantic. In the just under a month that she had known the redhead, Wynonna had known her to be level-headed and confident, albeit a bit too stuffy and strait-laced for her liking.

There was no denying that the woman in front of her bore little resemblance to the one Wynonna had grown accustomed to, standing there, still in her skates and pads from the game, next to the laundry bin turned over and the jerseys splayed across the floor.

"You know, normally I'd kill you for that," she teased, but upon seeing Nicole's face drop, she dropped it for a softer approach. Gross. "But...you look like you're in a mood, so I'll let it slide."

Nicole released a breath but still looked tense.

"Hey, you good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Nicole said, rather unconvincingly, but Wynonna could see her struggle to keep her pride intact.

"No, you're not. You just flipped a laundry bin and tried to kill me with a helmet, not to mention you're still dressed up like you're gonna go play even though the game's been over for an hour. Now what you're gonna do is go get changed and join me in the office." Wynonna said, and silenced her when Nicole tried to protest. "Ah ah ah, Tater Haught, I'm not taking no for an answer. Now get."

She shooed the ginger off who went with hesitation, but no protest. With a heavy sigh and a groan, Wynonna bent down to pick up the mess Nicole had made in the room.

Once Nicole had changed and deposited her laundry bag into the bin, she walked over to the door where her helmet was lying and sheepishly picked it up.

"Wynonna, I really am sorry, and thank you for picking up the mess, I didn't mean to cause such a disaster."

Wynonna accepted the apology, and waved Nicole to follow her as she pushed the bin down toward the laundry room. Job done, she led the both of them to the office. She opened a door under the desk, revealing a mini fridge from which she produced two bottles of beer. She slouched down and sat against the back of the desk, patting the floor next to her for Nicole to join her.