Date Check: February 1st

Closing the door to her apartment, Nicole thrust an overnight bag at that day's driver, checking her phone as she did so. "You're ten minutes late," she grumbled, waiting for the young guy to take the luggage from her while at the same time attempting to open the car door. "Watch it," she snapped, as his grip slipped on the bag, "there's expensive perfume at the bottom. And, that bag costs more than your monthly salary."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, Nicole's focus now on his insipid grey tie, which hung a little too far to the right for her approval, and his weathered winter boots, which clashed with the obligatory dark grey suit he was wearing. She made a mental note to complain to the station manager. "Snow," he said, in a bid to explain his late arrival. "More heading this way," closing the door once she was inside.

As the person at WENH-Pittsburgh who presented the weather, anyone daring to provide information on what might be happening meteorologically was like nails on a chalkboard to Nicole. She ignored the comment, scrolling through the messages of that morning, stopping at one she had been waiting to receive for over a week. The corners of her mouth lifted as she read the short text to say she finally had been shortlisted for a position at a major network, her fifth attempt acknowledged, a chance to move on to what she considered would be better things. More money, more prestige, also, proving to everyone she was more than ready to hit the big time. Providing she got the job.

The driver's voice pulled her attention away, something about a big storm expected to hit the area later that day, briefly removing her gaze from the phone in her hand, not even bothering to appear interested in whatever he was saying. She made another mental note to add 'overly-chatty' to the list of complaints. The energetic buzz in the studio lifted her mood a fraction, dumping the expensive bag by the side of her desk without a care for it, or its contents. The list of annoyances about that morning's driver faded quickly from memory. She had more important things on her mind, like making sure those she worked with knew she was finally being scouted for stardom.

Nicole's co-workers were used to her ego-fuelled ambitions, many an evening spent at a bar listening to her drone on about how she was destined for more than a station like WENH, which would never appreciate her true talent. It went with the career, those willing to stand in front of a camera for a living not known for their humility. It took a certain type, the ones with bigger personalities than most, who totally bought into their own imagined fame, and weren't afraid to sell themselves to anyone dumb enough to be their audience. It was all about them, and Nicole was extremely good at making herself the centre of attention.

"Bound to happen eventually," the female news anchor agreed, as she checked her hair in the mirror. "I can see you there. So you. Isn't Max Freeland their anchor?"

"Max's great," Nicole replied, applying more lipstick, noticing her skin looked drier than usual. "Hate winter. Hate the lighting in here, does nothing for me."

Nicole's restroom companion turned her body, arms folded, leaning a hip against the edge of the counter, watching as Nicole applied more make-up in an effort to hide the dullness of her complexion. "Did you know he's having an affair?"

Nicole returned the tube of concealer to her makeup bag, hunting for the charcoal grey eye liner. "I did not."

"Intern. His wife's expecting twins any day. Second wife that is."

"Guessing he likes variety," Nicole said, closing the small bag, turning towards the door.

"Could be why they want you," her companion continued, stopping Nicole in her tracks.

"Why's that?"

"Oh, you know, less of a temptation for Max."

Nicole's grip on the cosmetics bag tightened, refusing to rise to the bait. "Guess so," she replied, sauntering out, cursing under her breath as she returned to her desk.

Her sexuality was no secret to those who worked at WENH. In fact, she made a point of flaunting it whenever she could, her on-off relationship with Shae Pressman, producer at another TV station, common knowledge to everyone who was involved in the business. They were currently in one of their 'off' phases, Nicole calculating if she worked on advancing her career it might move them to another 'on' phase, secretly jealous of Shae's recent promotion while her own horizon looked hazy.

Not that 'technically' being with Shae stopped her noticing a new opportunity when it waltzed in the door. Like the new, rather gorgeous producer two weeks previously. Waverly Earp, all wide-eyed and super-keen to do well. Nicole made a point of introducing herself on Waverly's second day at the station, suggesting they might get a drink sometime so she could give her the low down, let her know how it really worked at WENH.

Nicole could usually tell who was interested in her, Waverly giving off just enough vibes, just enough eye contact for her to lay on the 'Haught' charm a little more thickly, pretend to find Waverly's comments fascinating, playfully maintain her own eye contact, whenever they happened to be in close proximity. This was her idea of fun, a mere game, testing how far she could go, never once dreaming there might be the possibility of anything more serious with someone like Waverly Earp. A little too earnest for her liking, probably a little too dull, her appearance suggesting the bookish type who relied on brains rather than their beauty. Nicole was all for brains, but had come to realise her beauty had a more powerful presence, using all she had to her advantage.

Approaching Waverly's desk, Nicole suddenly was struck by how adorable Waverly looked, red-framed glasses perched precariously on her nose, deep in thought over a piece for that day's slot. "I'm heading over to Mulligan's later," she said, taking in the delicate beauty of Waverly's features. "Wondered if you still wanted that drink I promised. Seven."

Waverly pushed the glasses up a little, her cheeks betraying her interest. "I'd like that. Will I see you in there?"

Nicole nodded. "Can't stay long, so don't be late."

As Nicole sauntered off, another co-worker sidled up to Waverly's desk, pretending to be discussing the piece she was working on. Glancing over her shoulder to check Nicole wasn't in earshot, she moved a little closer than was comfortable. "She's got her eye on you."

Waverly smiled, edging back in her seat. "I noticed. She's quite confident."

"Make that extremely," the co-worker replied. "You know she's with Shae Pressman at KDKA."

Waverly eyebrows raised a little, suddenly realising what her co-worker was implying. "Oh, sorry. No, I'm not. I'm with Perry...Perry Crofte. I don't. She's not my-"

"Relax. She came onto me and I'm married with two kids. Sex on legs that girl. Sex on legs."

"No, I'm really not."

"Me neither," her co-worker said, winking. "But, that girl's got what it takes."

Waverly's mouth had fallen open as her co-worker casually walked away from her desk. She wanted to announce she wasn't gay, that whatever Nicole might be thinking she was, she most definitely wasn't. Flustered, wondering whether she should cancel their drinks, the station manager's hand on her shoulder did nothing to calm the frenzy of feelings going on inside her body.

He laughed as she jumped, while letting out a little squeal at his unexpected touch. Pulling up a chair beside her desk, he dropped his notes on top of hers, placing his arms behind his head. The smell of sweat hit her immediately, that and the two dark pit stains on his shirt. "How you liking it here?" he said, leaning back a little further on the chair.

"It's great," she replied, wishing she had more words to express how much she was enjoying the new role.

"Thing is, we need someone to hold hands with...correction, we need you to cover the prediction. Are you up for it?"

"Sure. I'd love to. It's my home town."

"Even better. Look, I wouldn't normally say this, but Nicole Haught will be covering that piece."

"I figured."

"Any funny business you call me. She thinks she runs this place."

Waverly had no intention of calling anyone if something happened between her and Nicole. What with her co-worker warning of Nicole's eyes, and the station manager suggesting she call him if Nicole did anything which needed reporting, she wasn't sure which way to turn.

That day's show over Waverly headed to Mulligan's, spying Nicole at the bar with another woman. She almost bailed, almost, not quite, deciding it would be awkward if she did, making her way over to where they were seated. Nicole's eyes were on her as she approached, the woman with her turning to see who had stolen Nicole's attention, smiling, offering out her hand. "Hi, you must be Waverly."

"This is my agent," Nicole advised. "I've a couple of stations interested."

"Darling, I'm going to head off," Nicole's agent said, gathering her bag. "I'll text if I hear anything." Waverly could see the woman's eyes undressing her as she eased herself off the bar stool. "Nicole can give you my details. You have anchor potential."

Waiting for the immaculately-dressed woman to vacate the stool, Waverly hesitated. "I can't stay long," she said, as Nicole caught the attention of bartender.

"A shame."

"I thought you had plans too?"

"What's your poison?" Nicole asked, ignoring Waverly's question. "Whiskey. No, let me guess, sweet vermouth on the rocks, with a twist."

Waverly's heart rate quickened, Nicole ordering the very drink she would have ordered. "Who told you?"

Nicole touched her nose. "That would be telling. So, Waverly Earp, what brings you to Pittsburgh?"

Waverly watched as the bartender placed the drink on the counter. "Oh, you know. Next rung on the ladder."

"I'm hearing good things about you," Nicole replied, Waverly forcing herself not to laugh. "Really good things. You're a natural."

"Am I?" she replied. "I still have a lot to learn."

"That's where someone like me can help. I know this station better than anyone else. I could help you get on the map."

"That's mighty generous of you."

Nicole lifted her glass to her lips, drinking in Waverly. "I don't usually offer, but I can definitely see your potential. And, I'm not usually wrong."

"I don't want to put you to any trouble."

Nicole's right hand casually brushed against Waverly's knee to gauge the reaction, a flutter of the eyes sufficient to confirm Nicole's suspicion. "I can tell you're ambitious. With my contacts. Hey, even my agent thinks you're anchor potential."

"I prefer to be behind the camera," Waverly replied. "I don't have your kind of talent."

The comment had Nicole going for the kill. "I know a restaurant, not far from here. Easier to talk."

"I'd love to, but I've promised...I don't usually do this. I like to take my time getting to know who I'm working with."

"Me too," Nicole purred. "Take it slow, real slow. Get to explore a person. Inch by inch." She watched as Waverly's cheeks reddened. "Of course, I never mix business with pleasure."

"That's not what I'd heard," Waverly replied.

"And, what have you heard?"

"Shae Pressman."

"Bad news travels fast. For your information, Shae and I are on a break. I, on the other hand, know nothing about you."

"You know what I like to drink."

"There must be some juicy secret," Nicole pressed. "Something you're hiding."

It was at that precise moment Waverly's phone buzzed with a message from Perry, making her excuses, Nicole watching as that evening's quest hurried towards the exit. So, that's your secret, Nicole thought, as she settled their bar bill. You most definitely like women, but you're with a man. Interesting. Challenge accepted. I'll give it four weeks before we're in bed together. Make that two.

As Nicole headed to her apartment Waverly was already home, Perry wanting to know how her first outing went. "She's exactly how I imagined," was all Waverly offered, slipping out of her suit. "Thinks she runs the show."

"Never paid much attention to the weather before."

Waverly glanced over. "She's good at what she does."

Perry sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. "So are you babes. Just because she has legs."

"She's gay."

"Not if she met me," Perry replied, enjoying the reaction from Waverly.

"She's with another producer."

"Have you thought any more about visiting my folks for the festival?"

"Thing is," Waverly replied, searching in an open drawer for a top. "I'll be there with the station."

"That's great. I'll let them know we're coming."

Waverly stopped what she was doing, her back still to Perry. "Would it be okay if it's just me?"

"Alone? My folks will wonder why I didn't go with you."

"Only, it'll be my first outside broadcast."

"Are you worried I'll get in the way?"

"I just want...I promise we'll go together when I've more time...when we'll have more time to see them."

"Will you at least drop by their house," Perry continued. "They'll be upset if you're there and didn't go visit."

"I will. I promise."

"Will Wynonna be there?"

"I guess."

"Have you and her fallen out again?"

"She's busy with Alice."

Perry raised himself off the bed, hands finding Waverly's hips. "She's your sister. Yes, she's as stubborn as you. But, she's still your sister."

Waverly let out a long sigh. "This isn't a social visit. I have a job to do covering Purgatory's annual weather prediction."

"Which you'll do perfectly, as you always do. Go see her."

"Fine, I'll go see her."

Between their drink at Mulligan's and heading to Purgatory, Nicole and Waverly had not had another chance to be completely alone together, Nicole wondering if their overnight trip might provide a window of opportunity to test how far she could go with her co-worker. Booked into a comfortable guesthouse on the edge of town, along with their cameraman Dolls, she assumed budget constraints at WENH meant those of a lesser status, like Waverly, had to go wherever they were put. She was somewhat put out Dolls was staying with her. Make that very put out, as she told the station manager.

"It's only for one night," he had replied. "Not much choice considering the town's fully booked this time of year, as you well know."

"You could have found him another place. It looks bad on the station."

The station manager squeezed his lips together briefly to stop himself laughing out loud. "Next time I'll book you into the Marriott."

Nicole knew when she was being brushed off, about to launch into one of her tantrums in a bid to get upgraded to somewhere other than the cosy little cottage she and Dolls would be using. She stopped herself, muttering something about being too good for WENH as she marched out, realising if she made it to the bigger network her demands would be catered for without hesitation.

The others were waiting in the van for Nicole's grand entrance, listening to her grumble about not being taken seriously as she took the passenger seat in the front. Dolls could tell this would not be a fun journey, having spent enough time with Nicole to know she was already in a foul mood.

Waverly had been relegated to the back seat, rummaging in her pocket for snacks. "Nuts anyone?" she asked, offering a small paper bag out to those who were to be her travelling companions for the next hour and a half. "I've dried fruit too, if you prefer."

Nicole glared at the bag, then Dolls. "We're nuts going to Purgatory. Weather forecast isn't great."

"Like you'd know," Dolls replied, hoping to lighten the atmosphere.

"Yeah right, like I'd know. Some rat telling us what he thinks."

"It's tradition," Waverly interrupted. "Purgatory Pete. If he doesn't see his shadow it's an early spring. If he does it's six more weeks of winter."

Nicole glanced back at Waverly. "How many years have I been covering this?"

Waverly's voice faltered. "Two. Three."

"Four. Four long years of a rodent doing my job. Badly, I might add."

"It's tradition," Waverly repeated, sensing Nicole didn't see it that way. "He's been doing this for a long while too."

"Great. Get Purgatory Pete to do my next weather slot, why don't you. You know who isn't covering this?"

"Who?" Waverly asked, in an effort to ease the building tension.

"My new network. This will be my last year covering a non-event."

Waverly sat back in her seat, resting the bag of nuts on her lap, knowing better than to argue with someone like Nicole. She had met enough prima donnas in the industry to know one sat in a bar dressed to impress. Not that she was intimated, having learnt this came with the territory. Nicole knew perfectly well the effect she had on others, using it to get what she wanted, whenever she wanted it and Waverly was already wise to her. Sure, looks mattered, and Nicole had the whole package. For Waverly, however, what lay behind those looks mattered more, needing to know the person to whom she gave her trust was trustworthy, a lifelong struggle with a family who had left her wanting in that department.

Wynonna could be a prima donna too when she chose, their relationship strained through events over which neither had much control. Her sister's defence mechanism involved a glib response, coupled with a frosty look should anyone try to get close, including Waverly. She hoped the arrival of Alice would soften Wynonna, finding it had the reverse effect, the pair drifting apart as Waverly's career in Pittsburgh found legs while Wynonna remained shackled to a town where every one of her actions was weighed against their family's name.