#Consider: Did Vicky give Dale The Talk or did he not know any of that until he was ~16 and escaped. oh no.

[fountainpenguin]

The more I think about my "Dale has misophonia" headcanon, the worse it gets, actually <3

(Hadley was in the shower for 12 minutes. He's ready for a vow renewal and second honeymoon. They cannot go because Dev is 3 weeks old.)

Alt text: "If you want more babies, maybe we should have them all at once and I can stay in a hotel." / "Dale, no."

[emeraldinthesky]

STRANGE TRAILS - Chapter 2 - Kiss for the Dead

Victoria was smoking by the backdoor: it was about mid-morning, and they hadn't slept since their departure from the headquarters. The dark circles under her eyes were more prominent than ever, and her facial features appeared almost stretched by gravity. She took a long, lazy drag from her cigarette but when that gesture yielded no results, she searched the pocket of her lab coat for her lighter. The flame danced around in the moist wind then vanished under the metal lid of the zippo. She stared ahead, now with smoke-filled lungs, although she could hardly make out any detail of the wooden, pine-y area at the back of the building. The air was fresh, although she knew it would only give her a more difficult time to readjust to the pungent scent of rotting flesh she'd gotten so used to in the past few hours. They were certainly past the tricky part: that hour of the night when they are both unable to verbalize their thoughts, as if fatigue saw shut their mouths. These were usually the minutes the investigation came to a painful halt - painful, because they weren't making progress, and that also meant they couldn't go to sleep anytime soon. Their colleagues, Chris and Jeremy chose that very time to return to the hotel and catch up on some sleep. Albert was somewhat sore about it, but Vicky didn't bat an eye; if they're ready with their work, by all means, they shouldn't stay for the entertainment of two (frustrated) pantomimes. Luckily, that period passed just half an hour after the boys left, and since then, they were bouncing ideas off each other, at some point resorting to grotesque and eccentric reenaction of the crime. The denier checked on them, only to spin around and leave the very next second.

 It has barely been minutes since she was away. Of course, she had met the doctor and two other men down the hallway, but it never occurred to her that she would arrive back to an already escalated fight, or that their investigation was going to be cut short. Cooper and the Sheriff were already there and Vicky could hear the arguing from the end of the hallway – and stepping into a room filled with angry men pointing at each other sure made her consider taking a longer break. However, it changed instantly when she learned about the reason. '...Cuff him!' Albert insisted, instructing the agent. 'He won't release Laura's body to the funeral. He's not human.' Doctor Hayward opposed as he was joined by Harry. The woman knew this was only fuel to the fire; she heard enough of Albert's doubts about the sheriff's mental capacity, and just as she expected, her boss was quick to voice his opinion. It happened in the blink of an eye, and the forensic scientist received a punch from the town sheriff, that sent him right on top of the DB in question. Cooper sent his new colleague out to the car, and Victoria took the opportunity to soften – and potentially talk some sense into – the agent. 'Look, Dale, I don't like to agree with Albert.' She began after rushing up to him. 'But we can't properly perform an autopsy in a day.' 'Vicky, this funeral is important to the people. They need it to pay their respect to their passed loved one.' The black-haired man explained. He remained calm and spoke with a gentler tone, so she knew she could still persuade him into another couple hours or even a day. 'I know, but is the ritual more important than finding out the truth?' She darted back, trying with all her consciousness left to keep her voice quiet and decent. Apparently, she failed. 'Miss Davis.' Cooper's voice changed uncharacteristically authoritative, and his posture became more erect. 'We need the body to be handed over to the funeral. You knew the time limit before you started your work.' The woman's face turned bright red, even under the paleness from the all-nighter. Her brown eyes turned darker and despite the glasses, Cooper would've sworn to feel little sparks darting off from them into his direction - and not the type he enjoyed. 'Oh, I hope you'll have a time limit on your work once.' She muttered without batting an eye, but then refocused her attention to the old doc. 'Please, give us a second to clean up the body so we can hand it over in proper shape.' She asked in a surprisingly respectful, calm manner, then turned to Mr Horne investigating the corpse. 'Sir, Mr...?' 'Horne.' The man replied. 'Mr. Horne. Remind me again why are you here?' 'I am the representative of Laura Palmer's family in their absence.' 'Splendid. Then with all due respect: leave and don't come in 'till I say so.' Then, she spun around to her now a bit disheveled superior. 'Albert, you give me that or God sees my soul I'll drill a hole into your forehead.' 'You'll need my help if you want to be ready by noon.' The forensic pathologist pointed out. 'You won't be any help if you keep screwing around.' Vicky retorted. Cooper left the autopsy room with a mischievous smile on his face, keeping down a chuckle as he walked back to the police car. He knew he was somewhat responsible for the scene that escalated from the other, and he admittedly enjoyed how bossy Victoria was able to be, even around men; or especially around men. She'd singlehandedly put all grown men in the room to their place, and she was the only one that could manage Albert's behaviour - but, truth to be told, Coop feared he would be the next in line for his attitude. He did phone her after returning to the Great Northern the night before, to invite her to the funeral, but after this slip of his, he doubted she would join them in the cemetery.

 Even when Albert delivered the reports and results in the conference room, she was nowhere to be found; this definitely signaled to Dale that he might have overstepped a line, because Victoria was eager to attend to these meetings - she often did more than analysing the evidence before her, peeking behind the curtains. The red velvet ones. Although they weren't always so glamourous. However, it was only the sour scientist, describing their findings while not missing one single opportunity to make a foul remark which ultimately prompted the sheriff to storm out of the room. Dale took this opportunity to enquire about the current state of the woman in question (interestingly, that not being Laura Palmer) - or rather his state on her dashboard. 'Why weren't you joined by Miss Davis?' 'Oh, you two had a quarrel alright if both of you call each other by their last name.' Albert noted with his usual, straight face. Cooper knew this spelled trouble: she rarely resorted to referring to him by his surname; not to him, specifically, but to others, unless they were in a stiff or unfamiliar setting. Her boss, however weird that sounds, did not check that box. 'So she's angry?' The agent insisted. 'I've been having my ass kicked since you stepped out of the morgue if that answers your question.' The other man admitted. 'Coop, even I wouldn't take that entitled authoritarian handling from you lightly. And it is quite unlike you to begin with.' 'You're right, Albert.' The other nodded. 'I don't know what got into me.' 'Anyway, make amends with her as soon as possible, because she takes the case from here.' 'What do you mean?' 'She's getting a promotion.' The scientist explained. 'Only a formality, but this is her test run. You two will have to work closely together so it's better to be on speaking terms.' 'I don't argue she well deserves one, but I admit, this promotion seems quite out of the blue for me. Did something happen I didn't know about?' The black-haired man insisted, a strange feeling twisting his stomach and chest. He wasn't short of fleeting theories, yet his reaction was primarily emotional - and he was feeling worse than at the beginning of this conversation. 'Seemed like the right time to me.' The scientist shrugged.

 ***

 A Ford pickup parked just by the cemetery and the mourning crowd; its light blue upper section was still shining clean, but the darker-toned half was covered in dust and dirt. One would have expected a tall, well-built man to step out from the driver's seat, but instead, a young woman dressed in a long black dress emerged; although much of her attire was covered with an elegant coat that cut off mid-calf. Her shiny high heels dug deep into the moist ground as she hopped out of the car. She had her dirty blond hair up in a tight french twist to cover her unkempt locks, and her makeup made you forget she had just arrived there from more than 24 hours spent above a dead body - the very corpse they were about to hoist to the ground. Cooper's eyes must have lingered on her longer than they should have, as the sheriff nudged him from his left. 'Friends, are we?' He asked with a knowing smile. Vicky joined them, after Cooper gestured her to stand by his side. He put his arm around her shoulder - he knew she would probably faint into the grave gaping before them otherwise. Little he knew of the coming scene. Audrey shot a jealous look towards the pair; her blue eyes were ice-cold and ready for the kill. A poisonous feeling emerged from her heart and she puffed her face in anger, slightly pouting her mouth. It was almost unacceptable that someone, almost ten years older than her, could blow her out of the picture. Yet it wasn't the teenage beauty starting the scene, but Bobby Briggs as he caught glimpse of the biker his late girlfriend was seeing behind his back. The tragic gathering took a turn for the grotesque, the whole turmoil culminating into the father falling on top of the coffin and the levers misfunctioning at the worst possible time.

 It was the second man falling on top of the poor dead girl that day.

 After the mayhem died down, the agent accompanied his colleague to her truck: 'Miss Davis, can I interest you in a coffee at the Double R? You have to try that pie.' 'Only if you quit calling me Miss Davis.' Vicky smiled back, and from the mischievous twinkle in her eyes, it was oblivious that she was open for reconciliation. 'You're staying in Twin Peaks?' Cooper asked as she hopped into her car. 'Since Albert refuses to.' Vicky smiled then gestured to the man. 'Hop in, Coop.'

 As they stepped into the diner, the agent had his arm around her waist. Although he barely even touched her, it was a gesture that bordered being protective, defending her from the weather and her slim figure from the curious eyes of other men. They unconsciously leaned in towards each other, already laughing loudly at an earlier case; the woman was never able to stay mad at him for long. She faintly pushed his chest away as she walked up to the counter, and Cooper followed, sitting down by her side on a barstool. 'Your wife, Agent Cooper?' Norma asked as she placed the clean white cups in front of them. 'Oh, I wish!' The man replied with a wide smile. 'Victoria Davis, forensic pathologist. She came to help me investigate the Palmer girl's case; an extremely skilled investigator I'm happy to have on my team.' 'So you'll stay with us, Miss Davis?' Norma turned to her as she served them coffee, filling the empty cups with the hot, dark beverage. The aroma instantly filled the air, and Victoria couldn't help, but inhale a little deeper to fill her lungs with the scent that was much more refined than the one of the coffees at the lab. 'Well, as long as they don't relocate me to somewhere else. I'll assist the Sheriff and Agent Cooper with the forensic evidence.' She explained. 'Now Miss, I haven't slept in two days and this man promised me a pie. What would you suggest?' 'I'd recommend the blueberry pie, fresh from the oven.' The woman in the turquoise dress replied in her usual, melodic tone. She was always a delight, and seemingly found joy in the playful conversation, but especially now, it was as if she was up to something. 'Sounds perfect. Two slices, please.' Cooper ordered, and Norma left with a smile.

 'I'm glad you came to the funeral.' The man said as he took the cup into his hand. 'It was an experience. I've seen men mourning their daughters, but this was quite a spectacle. Seems like this whole town gone crazy by this tragedy.' 'There really is something, isn't there?' 'The poor girl can't even rest peacefully in the ground, that's for sure.' The blonde eyed the steaming coffee ahead of her. 'She couldn't on the autopsy table either.' 'You mean Albert?' She finally turned to Coop. 'You know how he is. He's tired from the car ride here, we pulled an all-nighter and now he's throwing a tantrum like a kid when you try to tear his toys from him.' Cooper chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. His eyes wandered to her hands that were lazily caressing the edge of the cup. 'You look lovely.' He said, and they both paused for a moment when they caught each other's gaze. 'And you are sharp as always.' She smiled back. A brief silence settled between them: the woman turned her attention the brown beverage before her as if she was staring into a crystal ball - and indeed, her eye colour matched the shade of the coffee so perfectly, it could have easily been mistaken for a mirror. Coop eyed her intently, but with patience; and admittedly, he reexplored her features since they last met a month ago, still in the burning deserts of Nevada. Her skin hanged onto some of the gold freckles obtained under the bright sun (or she visited home in-between, but he brushed that idea from his head), and the scar on her neck was still faintly pink. Her hands were dry from the weather and the endless handwashing, fingernails cut short without any nail polish, and nothing on her fingers beside that small birthmark on her left index finger. A scent of amber, spices and orange lingered around her; the very perfume that enchanted him at their first handshake. She was the same woman he said goodbye to in Las Vegas, but something seemed different besides her tired posture. 'Vicky, is everything alright?' He asked and his voice gave away how worried he was. 'Oh, yeah. Sorry I just zoned out… You know how it is.' 'Are things going well?' 'I'd say so.' She nodded after taking a premature, hot sip of her coffee. 'There're just… Many things going on at the same time.' 'I've heard they offered you a promotion.' 'They did. I haven't accepted it just yet. We agreed that this case would be a sort of… Test.' She was twirling a cigarette around in her hand, then turned to Cooper without lighting it. 'You, on the other hand. Seems like you enjoy your stay here.' Vicky pointed out, her attitude much more easygoing now. 'I do!' The agent exclaimed. 'Have you seen those tall trees? Douglas firs.' 'They're mighty for sure.' She agreed as the pies were placed in front of them, and they both gave Norma an enthusiastic smile of gratitude. 'They look like they could reach the sky. And I did miss a little greenery in Las Vegas.' 'That was one hell of a Christmas.' He nodded as he took a bite of the pie. 'I wasn't this excited on Christmas Eve since I was 7.' Vicky became much more enthusiastic, especially since the combination of caffeine and sugar hit her bloodstream - and also, since she was having a lighthearted conversation with her best friend; all four of which, minus the caffeine, were missing from her everydays. 'Well, the New Year's Eve of the last year of the decade was certainly memorable.' 'Yes, you were like James Bond.' She joked nudging him from the side. 'Although you weren't able to sport this tan coat there. Is that why you prefer this climate?' 'There is something intangible about this place that makes me gravitate towards it. The people here; they are simple yet there's so much complexity and warmth. I haven't experienced this combination anywhere else.' He took a sip of his coffee. 'This town. It's so mundane, and the people living in it are so - human. I have grown to consider investing in a property here.' 'I knew you craved simplicity but so much so?' 'It is not so much about the simplicity but the community.' Cooper corrected. 'I see.' She nodded. 'So… Am I invited for the housewarming?' 'Vicky, you're invited to my house at any and all times.' This was the moment when they were painfully reminded of the fact that they both still had keys to the other's apartment; but that might be up for a change, in both of their lives, very soon. They simultaneously darted their eyes towards the table. 'As a matter of fact, I have grown to know you as someone who appreciates the simple way of living.' Cooper pointed out. 'And warm weather.' She added. The man knew that well: they were in the middle of dating when she invited him over to her family's vacation house. It was in a rural area of Texas, surrounded by forest and not a single soul besides the neighbours half a mile away. They sometimes got together for a barbecue night, or Vicky begged them to let her ride the horses, but the two of them spent most of their time alone. It was actually one of the afternoons he remembered most clear - they settled down at a field after an especially strenuous hike, lying in the grass as the sun slowly sunk under the horizon. She rested her head on his chest, and they listened to the faint change of sounds as daytime blended into evening; but the weather remained comfortably warm. 'Dale, I gotta admit, I'm pretty tired. Do you mind if we return to the hotel?' 'Not at all.' He replied in a softspoken tone he haven't used in a while. One that implied closeness and caring, that made him lose his composed façade; one he last used in the middle of August, 1987.

 He drove themselves back to the wooden hotel – it has been a hot minute since he was on the driver seat of the truck as Victoria was always insistent on driving. She might have driven his own car more than he, himself.

 'Vicky…' Coop began before they departed in the hallway. 'I am so sorry about how I talked to you today at the morgue.' 'It's okay, Dale. We have a stressful job and are human.' 'No, it is not okay.' The man insisted. 'You are my co-worker and friend. Your input into the investigation is vital and I should appreciate the work you do. My attitude didn't represent those values I hold dear, nor did I gave you the respect you deserve. I can assure you it won't happen again. Not to mention that you were right.' 'What you say my dear? I'm afraid my hearing is…' She imitated an old woman, cupping her ear with her hand and jokingly leaned closer, but Cooper was already grinning. 'I said, ma'am…' He elevated his voice and leaned towards her ear himself. 'That I'm sorry for your loss of hearing!' They burst into laughter that echoed through the wooden corridor. The pair surely woke a couple residents, but it was the least of their worries. They were friends again.

 Right?

[emeraldinthesky]

STRANGE TRAILS - Chapter 1 - Through the Pines

A/N: I've been rewatching Twin Peaks and couldn't help but fall in love - again - with our valiant agent. This story will contain dialogue from the series. You can also follow this story here.

SUMMARY: Agent Cooper does expect his colleague, Albert to arrive in Twin Peaks to assist him in the investigation of Laura Palmer's death. He also hopes that Rosenfield will bring along a certain forensic pathologist of his team, who's special, not just for the FBI, but Cooper himself.

’Sheriff, this is Lucy.’ Cooper and Harry got alerted from the radio as they were inspecting the bloodsoaked towel in front of them. ’Is Agent Cooper with you?’ ’Yes, he is.’ The sheriff replied. ’Are Albert and his team here, Lucy?’ The man in the suit inquired knowingly as if he could see through the wall or read the mind of the naive receptionist. ’Yes, he is. They are.’ The dumbfounded phrases came through the digital terrain. ’We’re on our way.’ The agent assured her confidently, and they headed out to the hallway, but not before Coop alerted his new friend about the forensic leader's peculiar nature. That being, that he's the best at the corp, but also, an asshole to interact with.

They stepped out of the conference room, and just across, at the entrance, there they were: three tall, suited men, two of which kept on their aviator sunglasses even inside. As Cooper spotted a young woman along the three tall men, his eyes lit up and an affectionate smile spread his face. Her light blonde hair cascaded onto her shoulders, and her brown eyes resembled the shade of a perfectly brewed, hot espresso. She was dressed casually, with the widely recognized navy blue FBI jacket zipped down in the heated building. This broke the pattern of the group, although only meant that she was one - or the one - to drive up here. 'Agent Cooper.' She nodded to him. 'Miss Davis.' He returned the greeting. ’What the hell kind of a two-bit operation they’re running out at this treehouse, Cooper?’ The tall man in the middle interrupted their small banter. ’Albert, this is Sheriff Truman.’ The agent introduced them to each other without batting an eye at the comment the other man-made, but Albert remained similarly oblivious to his words. ’I have seen some slip shop blackwater burgs, but this place takes the cake.’ The girl Coop addressed as Miss Davis rolled her eyes and shot an apologetic glance at Lucy – so the agent knew his forensic colleague wasn’t acting up to par since they entered the station. While Albert continued his heated monologue, Davis turned to Cooper, and after a suggestive look at the man next to her, she crossed her eyes and the agent couldn’t suppress a chuckle. ’What are you waiting for, Christmas? We’ve got work to do, dammit. They’re putting this girl in the ground tomorrow, and we’ve wasted half the day traveling here to the middle of nowhere. ’Well, Albert, I suggest you and your team should get started.’ Cooper agreed with a fazed expression, after elevating his gaze from the woman. ’I’ll have one of my men escort you over to the morgue.’ The sheriff included, although he was noticeably not pleased with the manners demonstrated by the lead investigator of the forensic team. ’That’d be fine.’ He nodded. ’Results from a local pathologist’s report.’ The black-haired man handed them the files, and Albert took a brief read into the report. ’Welcome to amateur hour.’ Rosenfield scoffed. ’Looks like an all-nighter, boys.’ He shut the files close in a theatrical fashion and was just about to leave, when Harry grabbed his shoulder: ’Albert. Got a minute?’ They separated a few feet away from the group and the sheriff had a close heart-to-heart with the scientist. In the meantime, Coop exploited this opportunity to turn his attention to the blonde. ’So, Vicky, how do you like Twin Peaks?’ ’I threw this manchild out of my car halfway here and now I'mma spend the night with him. I’d say I’m in for a treat.’ She retorted, and it was the first time her Texan accent made an appearance. Although it grew weaker over the years, her tonation haven't lost its melodic aspect. ’And how are you, Agent Cooper?’ ’Never been better.’ A wide smile spread the man’s face, but Rosenfield abruptly left the police station and that meant the end of their small exchange. ’See ya, Dale.’ She waved to them and went after her team.

’So, what did you tell Albert?’ Cooper inquired from the curly-haired man when the other returned to his side. ’That he’ll be looking for his teeth if he keeps up with that attitude.’ Harry explained, still tensed and annoyed by the encounter. The agent gave him an appreciative nod. 'And you two, how long has it been?' The sheriff cocked an eyebrow at his partner. 'How can you tell?' Cooper asked, although his voice was fainter than usual. 'Body language.' The man grinned widely. 'Sheriff, I have to give it to you, it was a keen observation.' The special agent turned to his new friend, now much more like himself. 'Three years ago when she began working at the FBI, we had a brief affair. It was a negative influence on our professional sphere so we've put an end to it shortly after. We've been friends ever since.' 'Seems like both of you have more than friendship in mind.' Harry noted suggestively. 'She's the brightest investigator on the forensic team. And one of the youngest to make to the FBI.' Cooper continued with proud amazement. He used a similar tone to describe her as he did with Rosenfield, but a certain gentleness mixed into his expression. He meant every word, but they also meant something else. 'How old is she?' '27 this October. Already promised her a nice cup of coffee for that day.' The agent responded as they retreated to their task in the conference room.

Rosenfield wasn't exactly short in supply when it came to snarky comments about the town, and surely practiced them during the city seeing route it took to arrive to the morgue - at least, that was Victoria's speculation when she closed her car with the key, only to hear his boss make vicious remarks about the building and the weather. A tall, long-haired man with earrings emerged from the police car and nodded them to follow him inside. 'Look, the Chief wants us to follow. Maybe he'll whip out a calumet.' Albert scoffed as the woman rejoined them. A loud sigh escaped the blonde woman's lips as the men shared a chuckle. She had been working closely with Albert for 3 years now; being his assistant meant she was placed wherever he was, and she was unable to leave his side. It also meant that she grew almost immune to his unsavory personal notes and not-so-charming attitude, but Twin Peaks brought the worst out of him. She haven't seen him so sour since that time in Alaska, where the small hospital doubled as a lab and a morgue, and the heating system bailed on them, because, well, something went haywire and nobody cared enough to fix it. The policeman handed them off to a diener, to lead them to the corpse they traveled to examine. She expected from the report, that the only forensic scientist in the area was the senior physician; it was a remarkable accomplishment from the supposedly old man, but filled with inaccuracies, misinterpretations, and missing data. And just as she speculated - the evidence has been fumbled around with, greasy police-fingerprints all over, and she could have sworn to recognize Cooper's thumb on one of them. She had seen it enough times to tell. In his defense, he did get better at wearing gloves after she made him sit through an evaluation. These were the moments she understood how Albert became such a sullen character; when they don't respect your work enough to put a glove on after munching down chocolate-glazed donuts, you begin to consider to incriminate the police officer who doesn't understand the idea of scene contamination. Shit, maybe she was becoming like him. Vicky pulled her long hair into a bun, and she curved her labcoat on herself. She fished around in its pockets for her gold-rimmed glasses. Maybe that's the reason why, but Cooper's delightful manners sparked a slight warmth in her chest. Oh, who she was kidding - it was a bonfire that could burn down witches. Yet, it was so nice to have a friendly, intentive chit-chat, one that wasn't ornamented with decay, bowel containments, or the unsatisfaction with anything lower of standards than Harvard or the Bureau laboratories. Even hovering over a 7-day old corpse couldn't wash away that utter contentment, especially since Rosenfield and the boys focused their attention on the work to be done. Jeremy, their chemist and ballistic expert took the necessary samples, and so did Chris, their biologist and DNA-specialist, to retreat to their own corner. Victoria was left with her boss to further inspect the body and occasionally furthering certain pieces to the rest of the investigators. After years, it was still unnerving to phantom that this body lying lifelessly on their autopsy table, was not long ago was a young girl, just beginning her journey of unforeseeable and puzzling crossroads. It was nauseating for some, but for Vicky, it was fascinating. Opening up the skin to fold it over, marveling at the mechanism behind it and making the dead talk again. Piecing the information together and searching for answers and clues were invigorating for her; and the gruesome nature made it all the more exciting. 'Would you still like to work in a run-down PD like this?' Rosenfield asked her out of the blue. They were opening the Palmer girl's abdomen, rummaging around emotionlessly in the cold insides. 'You know, Albert, just because certain departments are not as well-financed, or the people working in them aren't as privileged as we are, it doesn't mean their work is any less meaningful.' She passed him an instrument then continued to secure the opening with metal clips. 'No. It just means it's worse.' He said with a cynical smirk and cut the stomach open. Another thing she mastered during their work together - sort out the constructive criticism, and let the remarks go; only this time, Albert was considerably more offensive than usual.

She knew it would be a long night.