**A/N: I know I'm putting our OTP through the wringer, but light only appears in contrast to the darkness...hang in there!**

Thursday, March 16

Cooper and Truman waited until the door on Truman's office shut completely and Air Force Colonel Riley had left the room before looking up at each other in stunned silence.

"Those messages came from the woods," Truman whispered.

"I'm tellin' ya, Harry, there's more to this story…" Cooper replied taking a long sip from his Bakelite coffee mug.

"I believe you, Coop," Truman offered. "But I don't know how—"

"Harry, perhaps it's best to not focus on the how right now and figure out the what first," he said.

Truman's shrug was emphatic. "White Lodges. Spirit worlds. Outer space messages emanating from Ghostwood forest…" he locked eyes with the FBI agent. "That's the what. And where does that get us?"

Cooper nodded. "I know, Harry."

Truman sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "Heard you were up with Irene looking at real estate," the sheriff smiled. "Thinkin' about putting down some roots here?"

Cooper smiled. "Perhaps, Harry. But that's what I came here to talk about," he said. "We looked at a place called Dead Dog Farm—"

"That piece of garbage?" Truman asked, incredulous. "Coop, you can't be serious."

Cooper barrelled ahead, ignoring Truman's protestations. "Despite the fact that no one has been shown the property in over a year, we discovered fresh tire tracks in the mud outside. There'd been a meeting there, Harry. And there was cocaine in the sink."

Truman sat back in disbelief. "Holy smokes."

Cooper shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis and nodded. "I am confident that the cocaine will match that Agent Bryson found in my car—"

"Wait," Truman held up a hand. "She found cocaine in your car?"

Cooper nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Truman shook his head. "This must look bad…"

"Yes, Harry, it does," Cooper admitted. "But something is afoot, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

"Did you want me to put in a call to Agent Bryson?"

"No need," Cooper said. "I'll tell her myself. She wants to see me exonerated as much as anyone. She'll know what to do…"

COOPER: Diane, I'm holding in my hand a nationally distributed newspaper. My opening move responding to Windom Earle's opening move was printed in the personal columns, per my instructions. But I've already received my response to this (Pause:) yesterday. He anticipated my response to his opening move perfectly. (Quietly) He's toying with me, Diane. I wonder where he is, and what he's planning. (Pause) Meanwhile, I've spent the last two days without badge and gun the best way I know how: occupying both body and spirit. Looked into some real estate, what the local agent charitably refers to as a 'fixer-upper.' Nonetheless, it's the kind of place where a man might make his home, start a family-something, in spite of my past, I still hope I'm able to do. (Pause) However, as is the case here in Twin Peaks, even this bucolic hideaway is filled with secrets...secrets that may be connected to my trouble at the bureau, and the cocaine that was found in my automobile.(Long pause) Agent Hardy's deliberations will soon be completed, and if I'm not adequately able to defend myself, there's a very real possibility of imprisonment…(Knock at door faintly heard in background; click of the tape being shut off)

Audrey's appearance on the other side of the door was more of a surprise than it might have been weeks earlier, before their assignation began; he looked at her—professional, in a business suit and smartly styled hair—and wondered what she could possibly be doing calling on him, after their tumultuous parting the night before at the Milford wedding reception.

"Hello Agent Cooper," she said.

"Audrey," he said, trying to hide his surprise. He opened the door for her, noticing the manila envelope in her hands.

She crossed the room, head bowed, and offering no clues as to whether this was a personal or professional call. But when she turned around and presented him with the envelope, Cooper stopped.

"This is for you," she said. "I stole it."

"Don't you think you'd better give it back?" Cooper drawled, hearing a flirtatious play amongst his words that he mentally kicked himself for right before the flutter in Audrey's eyelashes did it for him—chastised him. She wasn't playing around.

"Not until you look at what's inside."

Cooper smiled. "Okay," he agreed, taking the folder. "What am I gonna find in here, Audrey?"

"Pictures my father paid for."

Cooper slid the glossy 8 x 10s out of the envelope, and was met with a familiar sight—the Dead Dog Farm in the background, a group of men clustered around three cars matching the descriptions of the cars he knew to have visited the farm earlier that day, before his realtor had brought him there. He recognized the face in the photo immediately: RCMP Sergeant King, in civilian attire; Hank Jennings; Norma Jennings' step-father Ernie; and Jean Renault.

His heart nearly stopped. This, and the cocaine in the plastic baggie on his dresser from the sink at the farm, had to be more than enough evidence to present to Agent Bryson, who was on her way as they stood there.

Audrey inhaled sharply. "I did good, didn't I?" she asked.

Cooper's relief was plainly evident in his voice. "Audrey…you did better than good. You may have saved my life."

He held her gaze for a long moment, watching as she smiled and settled into herself again. "Good," she breathed, before walking over to the desk chair under the window. "So that makes us even now?"

Without wanting to inspire hope for a hasty reunion, Cooper smiled as warmly as he could at her, grateful to hear an interruptive door knock break the sudden silence. He was relieved to see Agent Bryson standing on the other side.

"Denise!" Cooper exclaimed.

"Hi, Coop," she replied, embracing him.

"Sorry," Cooper heard Audrey's voice behind him. "Am I interrupting something?"

He cleared his throat. "Special Agent Denise Bryson, Drug Enforcement Agency, this is a very good friend of mine, Audrey Horne."

Audrey, rapt with attention and awe, rose from her seat to shake Agent Bryson's hand. "They have women agents?" she asked.

"More or less," Bryson offered.

Audrey was stunned into silence, which Cooper was eager to break. "Audrey, if you'll excuse us? Agency business."

"I-I thought you were suspended?" Audrey asked.

"I am," he said, adding: "Thanks again."

Audrey folded her hands over her hips, elbows jutting out, and regarded the tall agent to Cooper's right with a bemused smile. "Thank you…" she repeated before laughing. "Well, uh—you're welcome."

Cooper let out a chuckle, and was taken completely off guard when Audrey sidled up to him and pressed her lips to his. He didn't even have time to remove his own hands from his belt loops before she had stepped back and was sauntering out the door.

Agent Bryson eyed him sideways as he ran a thumb across his lower lip. "These are photographs of an abandoned property on the outskirts of town," he started, changing the subject. He pointed to the players in the photo. "Jean Renault. Hank Jennings. Norma Jennings' stepfather. Sergeant King, Mounted Police. They were at the scene earlier today." Cooper handed the photo off to Bryson and retrieved the cocaine from the dresser. "In the kitchen, I found traces of cocaine and a baby laxative used to step it up. I think if you compare this, which was taken from the farm, with the stuff found in my automobile, you'll find it'll be a match."

Bryson took the baggie from Cooper's hand. "That's good news, Coop."

"Yeah."

"Now can we talk about something more important?"

Cooper quizzed his friend with a knit brow as Bryson purred: "Exactly how old is that girl?"

Cooper managed a laugh. "Denise, I would assume you're no longer interested in girls."

They made their way to the door and Denise scoffed. "Coop, I may be wearing a dress, but I still pull my panties on one leg at a time, if you know what I mean."

She clapped a hand to Cooper's neck and made her way through the door, and Cooper shook his head, flabbergasted. "Not really," he muttered as he shut the door on the hallway.

Later that day…

Back at the station, Cooper had discovered every male body in the building held in rapt attention by the lithe and willowy Lana Milford, widowed as of that morning. She was telling a story about the time she caught a raccoon in her backyard when she was eight; from the sounds of things, it wasn't the most incredible story, but no one seemed to mind.

Cooper knocked before entering. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

Sheriff Truman wiped the bemused smile off his face and stood up, and the spell was broken. Lana beamed as the men stood up, and everyone but Truman crowded around her as she was escorted to the door of the station.

Lucy, watching over from the desk, marched over to the door. She had five yellow Post-Its sticking to her fingertips. "You've got messages," she spat, stretching her hand out to the Sheriff as he got to the door, the last one to file out of the room. With a sideways glance at Cooper, however, she pulled her hand back and removed two of the stickies—evidently believing them to be lacking or in poor taste, perhaps, though Cooper didn't get a good look at them before she got rid of them—crumbling them up into the fist at her side and indignantly thrusting her hand back at her boss.

"Thanks Lucy," Truman said, taking the stickies from her. "Why don't you go on home."

She cast a glance at the vestibule; the men were still gathered, lovesick, between the double doors.

"Hmpf!" she uttered, stomping back to her desk and gathering her things. A moment later, she was marching down the hall towards the rear entrance to the building.

Sheriff Truman shrugged and glanced at the stickies. "Sorry about that."

"Not a problem," Cooper returned.

"What brings you down the mountain at this hour?"

Cooper had forgotten entirely about the manila envelope given to him by Audrey that afternoon. Tightly gripped in his hand, he hadn't been able let the envelope out of his sight since the moment she'd placed it in his hands. He handed it over to the Sheriff. "I received these photos from Audrey this afternoon. It seems Ben Horne paid for them to be taken."

Truman slid the photos into his hand and thumbed through them. "It's mighty suspicious," Truman said. "Jean Renault, Hank Jennings, that Mountie, and Ernie Niles…none of it sits right, but it all makes sense."

"Exactly."

"We have to find the weakest link in the chain," Truman said. "See if they'll turn—"

Cooper held up his hand. "Ten steps ahead of you," he smiled. "Denise found Ernie over at the Double R. He turned so fast it made my head spin. He's reluctant, but agreed to our plan."

Truman eyed his friend with careful suspicion. "What plan?"

Cooper's grin widened. "For Denise to pose as a wealthy out-of-town buyer looking to score. Ernie will be our point of contact. We wire them both, get them talking…" he shrugged. "Clean a few skid marks off the criminal underbelly in this sleepy town and clear my name, all in one fell swoop."

Truman's eyebrows flickered up and and down as he let out a low whistle. "An undercover drug bust," he said. "That's never been something I had on my bucket list…but it's an intriguing idea."

"And it can't be pulled off without help from Twin Peaks' finest."

Truman nodded slowly, sagely. "When did you want to put this…plan into place?"

"As soon as humanly possible," Cooper returned. "Ernie's not the bravest of souls. He's not gonna run, but he's leaking courage by the bucketful and if we don't act, he'll bleed dry before we know it."

Truman continued to nod. "I've never done one of these things before. You think you could…talk me through it?"

Cooper felt as though he couldn't smile any wider. "Harry, I thought you'd never ask!"

He clapped a hand onto the Sheriff's shoulder and was about to head into his office when the station doors flew open. Turning their attention, Cooper and Truman were startled to see Major Briggs stumble into the lobby, clutch at the planter boxes lining the waiting area, and pass out cold on the floor mats in front of the reception desk.