Wynonna Earp: Don’t Tell Doc Holliday About The Scissoring (Patreon)

Has your refrigerator ever broke down and forced you to eat everything in it or let it go to waste?

The Earp household had just undergone a similar situation, just with alcohol, and without anything breaking down.

Doc was sprawled on the couch, his hat over his eyes, his jangle of limbs managing to fill a piece of furniture meant to seat three people. Wynonna sat against the wall, trying to holster Peacemaker through the bottleneck of, ironically enough, Colt .45. Waverly laid bellydown on the rug, her feet raised and ankles crossed over her butt as she relaxed on her arms. And Dolls had gone home at 9 because he had work the next morning, though Wynonna had pointed out they all had work the next morning, except for Doc, and he had to do maintenance on his mustache.

“You’ve got something to get off your chest,” Wynonna informed Waverly, giving up on her project with a thud of the back of her head against the wall.

“No, I already took my bra off.”

“Not that, dummkopf. You’ve been screwing Haughties.”

Waverly raised her head a fraction of a degree. “Is that your nickname for her? Because if you haven’t told it to her yet, I wanna be there when you do.”

Wynonna almost tried to get up, but decided against it, instead deigning to draw closer to Waverly by scooting her butt across the floor. “I am your big sister and I am obliged to know about all suitors my little sis is entertaining. So spill. How was it?”

“How was what?”

Wynonna’s mode of travel betrayed her, as the seat of her pants remained in place while she jerked her body forward, resulting in her torso tipping in Waverly’s direction as if she were stretching in preparation for a jog. “The S-E-X-X. C’mon. I tell you all about my erotic misadventures…”

“I wish you wouldn’t. Before you came back, I was sure Purgatory didn’t have any furries—”

“We’re sisters! We share! You cannot hold out on me just because of… recent gayness!”

“Well… I suppose I have been wanting to talk to someone about it. If you’re really not going to get weirded out…?”

“Wav, c’mon, I have a sister who was into Bobo del Rey. This is like a book report on Where The Red Fern Grows in comparison. Tell me everything. Are there strap-ons? There are strap-ons, right? You don’t go strictly dickly for twenty years, then just decide you’re going vegan.”

Doc cleared his throat in a fit of coughing, his right hand flailing about his headspace until it managed to clear his hat from his eyes. “Excuse me, ladies—I do hate to interrupt your sisterly bonding. But I feel obliged to inform you that, while I have been endeavoring to slumber, I am, at best, only half-asleep in this present moment, and as I do wish to respect the privacy of your affairs, I feel I had best remove myself to the guest bedroom for a proper night’s rest before your conversation resumes.”

Wynonna waved him off. “Oh, get over it, Doc. It’s just a little girl talk. You’ve heard worse spending five minutes with me.”

“Umm, actually—“ Waverly began.

Wynonna looked at her in surprise. “What? He’s saved our bacon, like… okay, three times, now that I think about it, but now he’s not part of the fam? That’s harsh.”

“It’s not that I don’t like Doc, it’s just… you know…”

“What? He’s not even a blood relative, so it is way less weird to tell him about your sex life than me. Besides, I bet you’re still at second base. Who cares?”

“Well… if Nedry locked his office, that’d be true—“

“Wav!”

“What? He has a really comfy cot in there. And me and Nicole are small…”

“He has accused me of hiding a dead fish in his office! A trout!”

Doc was still trying to get up from the couch, swinging a leg out onto the floor, but mostly just sweeping empties off the coffee table. “Wynonna, I do believe it is nothing personal, merely a matter of our two affiliations.”

“Affiliations?” Wynonna asked. “What, did Doc used to be a Whig or something? Were Whigs really racist?”

With great effort, Doc planted a leg on the floor, the knee stolidly bent. “I speak of Waverly being a young woman of some inclination differing from the mainstream, while I myself am eminently heterosexual, as you yourself can attest, Wynonna."

"Ew,” Waverly said matter-of-factly.

Arms windmilling, Doc managed to draw himself upright, at least onto his ass. Out of breath, he said “Sad as I am to admit, I have noticed many of my ilk taking action to disabuse Waverly and her Sapphic like-minded of their communal hospitality, such that she would not wish any man, even one who has shared such sweet succor with her beloved sister—“

“Still ew,” Waverly said.

“To overhear a lascivious detail.” Anchoring himself on the armrest, Doc wound his way up to a stand. “Of course, it is my fervent wish to repair any such fractures between our two great orientations. My male compatriots and your feminine fellows have much in common. An appreciation of the female form, for one. A certain taste for appearing nattily dressed in a suit or uniform.”

“Xena,” Wynonna suggested.

“Yes, I have enjoyed many of their adventures on the Net-O-Flix, reminded in many ways of you Earp girls in their sororal camaraderie.”

Wynonna and Waverly looked at each other uncomfortably.

Doc turned to go. “But I respect that there are certain aspects of your lifestyle that you do not wish an outsider to pry into, much as there are masculine details to my life’s story I would dearly keep private. So, out of admiration and respect for you and your boundaries, I bid you a fond adieu until such time as your discourse is welcome to my attention.”

He staggered for the hallway to the guest room, but stopped as he stubbed a toe on the settee. “Dearie me… it occurs presently that, while I had previously concluded that I had drank too much and succeeded in gifting myself with navigational difficulties, it now appears that the opposite is true, and I have drunk too little! Leading to a state where I am inebriated enough to injure myself, yet not truly anesthetized to the point of ignoring such a misfortune. I shall have to be careful, in the future, to modulate my indulgence to one extreme or the other.”

And, with a slight whimper, Doc limped his way to the guest room and shut the door behind him.

Waverly turned to Wynonna. “Last night, Nicole ate my ass like it was the buffet at Red Lobster.”