Shall I Compare Thee
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairing: Dale Cooper/Harry Truman. Implied? onesided? Dunno.
Summary: When Harry met Dale, as viewed by a shipper with her slash-goggles strapped on too tight.
"Agent Cooper?"
"Yeah."
The man drew the Stetson off his head in greeting. "Sheriff Harry S Truman."
"Dale Cooper, FBI. Pleasure."
"Good to meet you." A calloused palm met his in a firm handshake, held it just a moment more than good form prescribed. Not that Dale minded the warmth after the February chill outside.
Sheriff Truman, on the other hand, looked like a man who spent plenty of time in the great outdoors. Crows feet round the eyes. Steady gaze, deep brown.
"Any trouble finding the place?"
Cooper fell in step alongside Truman. The man's steady amble brought to mind the slow sway of treetops in a summer breeze.
"No, no, it went just fine. Came in over highway two near Lewisfork. Stopped by a little place called The Lamplighter Inn, had a slice of cherry pie and two cups of joe. Incredible…"
I'm digressing, Cooper realized. His stray reflections didn't always go over with law enforcers. He glanced at the Sheriff to gauge the man's interest. To his surprise, Truman was still listening. At some point in the last few seconds they'd drifted close enough for their jacket sleeves to brush at every other step.
"Well I tell ya, we're sure glad to have the FBI here. Kinda lucky in a way that Ronette stepped out across the state line." Truman shrugged, sighed. "Whole town's in real bad shape."
"Sure it is. In a nice quiet place, something like this-" Cooper cut himself off, halted Truman halfway down the corridor. "Sheriff, there's a few things that we've gotta get straight off the bat. I've learned the hard way that it's best to talk about it up front." Strictly professional now. "When the Bureau gets called in, Bureau's in charge. Now you're gonna be working for me. Sometimes law enforcement has a problem with that, but I hope you understand."
The Sheriff gave an easy shrug and a nod. "Like I said - we're glad to have you here."
Just like that. No protests, no overbearing manner. Just an open, unwavering gaze that invited him. He could rely on this man.
In a surge of excitement, Cooper stepped closer. "Sheriff, what kind of fantastic trees have you got growin' around here?" His hands swept outwards in eager moves. "Big, majestic-"
You must've been one of them in your past life. Tall, rugged-
A friendly, puzzled lift of Truman's eyebrows. "Douglas fir," he supplied.
"…Douglas fir?"
The answer registered. All of a sudden Cooper's grin felt much too exaggerated and inappropriate for the situation. He had to look away from Truman's face, to the brass badge on his chest for focus.
"…Can someone give me the coroner's report on the dead girl?"
"Well, the autopsy hasn't been done yet, but-" Truman indicated the doors ahead, "I'll take you downstairs to the morgue when we're finished here."
Cooper finally dared to look the man in the eye again, and the tension in his jaw eased a tweak. Truman didn't look put off by his lapse into covert displays of affection. Same relaxed stance and benevolent gaze as before. Cooper's spirits lifted a little.
"Fine." He breathed out and tucked his hands in his pockets. It seemed subtle innuendos didn't hit home with Sheriff Truman; Cooper concluded that he must be bolder in the future.
Fortunately, nothing in the Bureau code of conduct prohibited agents from including a certain amount of coffee breaks with the local heat in their investigations.
A/N: Keeping up my sorta-annual tradition of publishing a Valentine fic, this time an exercise in subtext/UST. There's simply something in the way Coop looks at Harry when he talks about the 'big, majestic' trees of Twin Peaks that appeals to my imagination *cough*. Special thanks to my sis for beta-reading and contributing a few ideas for this, and Happy Valentine to ya'll.