What I want and what I need are two different things, Audrey.
Two hours and twelve minutes ago, Special Agent Dale Cooper had said all the right things. He stopped Audrey Horne before she could start, before she could get under his skin. Here he was, though. Sitting on the side of his bed, holding his trusted tape recorder in his right hand, waiting for the bravery to speak. Breathing. Barely so.
Cooper kept hearing what he had said to the young woman… girl… in his ears, much like a ringing sensation. He knew he had made the right choice, especially after chatting with her over malts and fries. Audrey didn't have much right in her life. Her family was a mess, leaving her to pursue attention in all kinds of ways. She rebelled, and she rebelled, and she rebelled.
Though she never did drugs or had sex with random guys or any of that stuff, she clarified. She still had morals, she said. And she knew she just needed attention.
And he knew the kind of attention she wanted from him wasn't going to do her any good. Dale couldn't give her the tools she needed to survive while he held her in his arms. He imagined what it would feel like to kiss Audrey, such innocence upon him. He could see himself grabbing her soft, pale neck. He could hear her let out a small gasp as his mouth made it's way across her collarbone. He could feel her shoulder rub up against his cheek. It was vivid. It was bliss.
There was a hesitation on his lips as he brought his tape recorded up. These lips—the ones he desperately wanted to move, to create sounds with, to express his feelings with—were worthless in this moment. The effort was incalculable, but why?
His fingers restlessly stroked the tape recorder before landing on the button he needed to press. I like you very much, he remembered saying. He had said all he needed to say. He wondered why he felt the need to repeat himself to Diane. Hesitation again, "but why" again.
He pressed down a little too hard by accident, likely out of nervousness. The rest was instinct.
"Diane, it's late, the early hours of the morning. I can't be bothered to look at the time, quite honestly." His eyes wandered, searching for nothing in particular, scanning the corner where the ceiling met the wall. The shine of yellow wood was saturated, almost annoyingly so. A few seconds of silence passed before he continued. "Someone had broken into my room at the Great Northern earlier tonight, and I wasn't sure why. I walked in with my gun in hand, ready to defend myself." His muscles contracted. "I entered only to find Audrey Horne, an astounding eighteen-year-old woman—though tonight, she seemed much more like a child to me."
Pause.
"She was naked in my bed, crying when I arrived."
Pause.
"She needs love so badly, Diane. Her broken home has left her in pieces."
Pause. You're everything that a man wants in his life.
"If I could, I'd pick those pieces up myself."
Click. Recording stopped. Cooper frowned to himself. He noticed his authoritative manner of speaking to Diane had practically vanished during that last sentence. His strong sense of self, his ability to say things so straightforward and simple, was gone. It was as though he had no control over his voice at all.
He slowly brought his body down to his bed, legs hanging off the side. The ceiling fan spun around itself time and time again. Cool air brushed against his face, and his cheeks responded by flushing in red heat. It made him dizzy. So very, very dizzy.
AN: I recently finished this show. It totally did me in, so I'm using fan fiction to fill the empty void in my soul. Nice to meet all of you!
This is my first piece of writing in a while, mostly as an attempt to nail Cooper as a character. I have never seen someone like him on television. He's so intriguing. This may be my last Cooper/Audrey piece since I'm that one Cooper/Annie shipper you've never actually heard of. But who knows.