A/N: A/N: This is a crossover between two of my favorite shows, Moomins and Twin Peaks, because why not? Both have characters with eccentric personalities and weird habits (and secrets too). Also, I'm writing this as a way to break the writing block. When I realized I was writing 1000 words of Agent Cooper and Officer Truman interacting with the Moomin cast, I couldn't stop right there, I had to tell a whole story. Enjoy!
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– Moomin Peaks –
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— ...Diane, it's 9:30 a.m., October 15th, and I'm entering Moominvalley. Early in the morning, but it feels like midday. It's so hot I can fry an egg on my forehead and eat it as breakfast. Let's see... Dry summer, a few clouds in the sky, evergreen grass grows around a small village surrounded by colossal ridges, the view is oddly mundane, yet spectacular. I could take a picture of this place and put it on a wall and no one would believe it is, in fact, real. I feel like a child that I never was, reading books that were never translated to my language and being friends with the most fascinating of creatures I haven't heard about until yesterday.
With one hand on the tape recorder and another on the car's wheel, Dale Cooper recorded his speech as he drove around Moominvalley's plains.
— Fresh pine scent in the air, beautiful trees, sharp grass, now the clouds look like bunnies running to their burrows, I'm pretty sure I've seen a rabbit shape, but I also see a lot of woods, more woods than you can ever imagine growing around you, Diane. Moominvalley is an open place where nature grows free without the interference of loud machines and radio waves. This place has the sort of landscape that inspired Brian Eno to compose one of his albums, I'd say, well... I can hear "The Plateaux of Mirror" across these woods. Not the whole album, just the song. The Plateaux of Mirror, wasn't that one with Harold Budd? Or was it The Pearl? Both? Alright. From what I heard, this place is flooded near midsummer. Everything is flooded, I'm not kidding. I honestly can't imagine how the people live here, they all seem calm but with the recent events, everyone I've seen so far looks distressed. Maybe they never saw a car in their lives, who knows?
— So, this is Moominvalley. – On the passenger's seat, Harry Truman was amazed by the view outside the window, yet something bothered him and that feeling reached his soul. – I honestly can't believe something awful happened here.
— Murder... It can happen to anyone. — Said Dale in a cold tone. He put his tape recorder in a pocket and laid both hands on the wheel. – Happens in the best of families, too. You think they're leading perfect lives but then you realize they're all gathered, not in a dinner room, but within a hurricane, so close to the eye of the storm that everything seems quiet and calm around and even time stops moving forward. Did you sleep well tonight?
— Yes. – Said Harry. – Until I woke up at night and I realized the heat in my bed did not come from the fireplace, but from hell itself burning under my feet.
— Was it before or after the phone call? – Dale asked, his eyes still on the road, or what seemed to be a path of dirt since there were not actually any roads but open spaces between grass and woods.
— After the call.
— And how do you feel this morning?
— A bit disturbed.
— I understand.
— Murder does not fit this place, not at all. – Harry looked outside the window and saw the faces of the inhabitants of what he deemed as an inviolable sanctuary. – They look so, pardon me... Goofy.
— Never thought I'd find myself involved in a case of cartoon violence. – Those were Dale's last words before he and Harry arrived at the police department of Moominvalley, which looked like a regular house resting under white and gray clouds. A sort of indiscernible melancholy filled the place, giving the faint impression that the trees were about to cry if they were able to.
Moments later...
— Morning, gentlemen. – Inside the house, the two men were greeted by the local police officer. – I am the Police Inspector.
— Good morning. I am Agent Cooper, FBI.
— Harry Truman, Police Officer.
— Oh, I see. – Said the Police Police Inspector, verifying their documents. – I'm so glad to see the people from Moominland have arrived to help on the case.
— Are you the only law enforcer around? – Dale asked, looking around the station, and though he had a fondness for quietness, the place he stood felt empty in a very unnatural way. – I don't see many people like you in here.
— Well, there was my nephew, Laudo, but he got promoted and no longer works here. – The Police Police Inspector replied, as he moved to his desk. – The Park Keeper only takes care of his own park, and that's all.
— You are the sole protector of Moominvalley, aren't you?
— Indeed I am! I'm very proud of my work, Agent Cooper. – The Police Police Inspector said, looking at a few pictures where he found himself alongside his family and the local civilians of Moominvalley. – I keep the community safe. Who knows what sort of disaster may happen and there is no one but me to protect those people? Of course, I can't arrest the sea for flooding our valley every year, neither I can arrest unfamiliar winds for breaking trees and lonely fences, that is too much for one Hemulen's job. I am a Hemulen, in case you did not know.
— A Hemulen? Interesting. – Dale Cooper couldn't hide his fascination for Moominvalley. He felt the need to know it beyond a vague "It's like a land out of a fairytale" he heard of a passerby.
— In Moominvalley, you have Hemulens, Woodies, Hattifatteners, Mymbles, Moomins, Fillyjonks and plenty of other people and species living in harmony. I could say this is the kind of place you hear about and visit once in your life, and that single visit shall remain tied to your soul. No matter where you go next, nothing compares to Moominvalley. Absolutely nothing, as far as I know.
— You know we are here because said harmony has been broken, Police Inspector. – Truman said in a straight and bold tone.
— Yes. Of course. Pardon me if my mind was somewhere else. Today I really feel inspired, but I remember I shouldn't be. – The Police Inspector replied, out of his lucid self and back to his former authority he has been known for ages. – Someone was murdered. A heinous crime, the loss of a life... That saddens me.
— Did you know Mrs. Fillyjonk personally?
— Yes, I did. Mrs. Fillyjonk... Born on a Monday. – The Police Inspector said, aimlessly walking around the room, and while he often remained in his usual civil and polite mood in front of others, he struggled a bit with his words with the mention of the victim. – She grew up in a family of duty-driven Fillyjonks. They cared for her education, taught discipline, prestige and tradition when she was three... At the age of five she found joy at cleaning dust from the rocks. When she was seven, her grandmother passed away, may she rest in peace...
— Did Mrs. Fillyjonk always lived here? – Dale asked as he stared outside the window. The serenity of everything, it all felt too natural, like the world didn't care or notice that a living being has passed away.
— Uh, no. – The Police Inspector paused briefly to take a breath. He felt no such relief from the invisible weights tightened to his limbs, then he continued to read through Mrs. Fillyjonk files. – She moved into Moominvalley a few years ago, established a new home, a new identity, new clothing, a different kind of blue that tainted her soul. She sent letters to her parents and relatives every week, some of these letters were addressed to her husband, Mr. Fillyjonk. but he never replied.
— What do you know about her husband?
— Little. Very little. From what I heard, Mr. Fillyjonk was an explorer and he was fascinated with nature. I've seen him quite a few times but we never interacted. One day, he went to a faraway land, some say it was Borneo, though I'm not sure because I do not leave Moominvalley while on duty... But he has not returned. No one but Mrs. Fillyjonk felt his loss. He said he would come home for her. Poor thing. I suppose you gentlemen want to investigate the crime scene. Her mansion is over there, a few miles away, but I must warn you... It's not a very pleasant view.
— By all means. – Dale agreed. – Let's go on foot. To exercise our legs, breathe some country air, and who knows, I'm craving for pie, I could eat some right now.
