Enough

Fifth in the Fall Series
by Tiriel
Rating: NC-17, m/m

Picks up the story a few hours after "Together" -beaucoup de spoilers here, so go away if you don't want to see them. It's going to be missing scenes that could fit in between the canon stuff to the end, folks-the boys finally told me how this saga is going to end.

Disclaimer: The characters of this story don't belong to me...they came from the twisted minds of David Lynch and Mark Frost (and I mean that respectfully)-I'll put them back when I'm done. Please don't sue me, all I have are student loans...also, this is not beta'd, errors are entirely my fault.

I sort of think of this one as a transitional piece...

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The day after Dale and I finally talked was filled with one bizarre thing after another. Using Gerard to try to sniff out Bob like some kind of hunting dog, the scene of Harold Smith's suicide, and the discovery of Laura's secret diary. Then, after midnight, there was Ben's arrest, and going to the Roadhouse with the Log Lady and waiting for something to happen. Apparently Dale had a vision there. All I saw was the ancient room service waiter from the Great Northern, patting Dale's shoulder in sympathy like someone had died. I had no idea at the time that that was exactly what had happened. None of us did.

We dropped Margaret off and headed for the Great Northern. First, though, we stopped at my place so I'd have fresh clothes in the morning. It was sort of strange, planning to spend the night together like that. But unlike the rest of that day, it was a good kind of strange.

When we got to Dale's room and closed the door, he put his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder. I held him close.

"Oh, Harry," he said, and the sadness in his voice surprised me, "I don't know what it is, but something happened tonight. Something important. Something terrible."

"I-I know," I said, and patted his back. If he hadn't been so effective in getting results with his hunches and visions and rock-throwing, I would have thought he was crazy. Giants and spirits and dwarves, oh my. If he weren't such a damn good lawman, he'd be locked up for sure. I didn't in any way claim to understand his gifts, his connection to the case, but I couldn't deny it.

I held him for a while, just standing there, rocking ever so slightly. Then I felt his lips turn to my neck and he began to gently nibble at my throat. I ran my hands over his back, down to cup his ass. I pulled him in closer to me, so we could feel ourselves grow hard against each other.

There was no damaged clothing that night. We undressed each other slowly, like we were unwrapping something fragile and precious. We took more time to explore than we had in our previous nights, and mornings, together. Eventually we reached the bed, naked. I ran a finger along his still-bandaged ribs.

"You saved my life that night, you know," I said softly.

"How's that?"

"Well, you were the one who insisted Andy do shooting practice. If you hadn't done that, Renault would have shot me...and someone did shoot you that night." I was suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. Looking back, I have to think that I knew, on some level at least. How many assassins wear vicuna coats, after all? But at the time, all I knew was that I wanted to change the subject. I kissed Dale instead of talking.

"I'm glad we both survived that night, Harry. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this."

"Not for the world," I whispered into his hair. We lay back onto the bed together. "Just relax," I said, "you're the one who's injured, after all." I smiled, and moved my lips down his chest. I placed a light kiss on his bandage and moved lower still. "I love watching you lose control," I said, knowing he could feel my breath on his dick, "I want to hear you say my name when you come."

"Harry," he said, then his voice disappeared for a moment into a hiss of breath as I touched the tip of my tongue to his cock. "Get back up here," he said, and I did. He could have asked me to fly to the moon, and if he'd used that tone of voice and looked at me like that, I would have tried. And if he'd asked, looked at me, and put his hand on me like he did just then, I think I *could* have flown to the moon and beyond. Luckily, his plans were more earthbound.

I slid back up so that we were face to face again. He took my hand in his, and moved our joined hands down. He took my cock in his hand, and I took his in mine. We stroked each other, gasping into each other's mouths, looking into each other's eyes.

"Harry," he said, as I came and he followed. "Oh, Harry."

We showered and went to sleep together. The dream was different again. Same place, same people. Josie vanished, I joined Dale at the edge. He turned his back to the edge, smiled, and closed his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, and I woke up.

That next morning, we visited Gerard again, and met with Ben Horne. Ben's attitude made me see red. I thought he was a killer. I wanted justice. The evidence against him piled up, and even though that damn troublesome one-armed man didn't think Ben was Bob, I charged him with Laura's murder. I was still angry, and when Dale challenged my decision, I snapped. I'd had enough mysticism, enough hocus pocus. Coop backed down, and left for the hotel without another word. I probably wouldn't have seen him again until morning if police business hadn't come up.

In the truck on the way to the place where the body had been found, I apologized. "I'm sorry about earlier, Coop. I was awfully hard on you."

"Quite all right, Harry. It's been a rough day."

If we hadn't been on our way to view the body of another dead girl, I would have joked then about making up later, in bed. But thoughts of death were weighing both of us down.

We were up all night working the scene. I couldn't even tell you what time Albert got there. All I know is that it was dark. In the morning, Dale asked for 24 hours before I made any calls or announcements. In the face of another murder, I couldn't say no.

We gathered evidence, each in our own way, and to make a long story short, eventually it turned out that Leland was the real killer. Coop was so sly about it, tricking Leland into coming to the station peacefully, whispering his plan to me at the last minute. Good thing, too, considering how violent Leland got when he was locked in. I took part in the most bizarre interrogation of my career, and then watched Leland Palmer die. Dale held him, offered him what comfort he could, kneeling there in a puddle of water and blood. After it was over, we all went out into the sunshine to dry off. Somehow it felt wrong that it was such a beautiful day outside.

I was still struggling to understand what had happened. Eventually, I gave up, and decided that I didn't need to understand. The important thing was that it was over. Or so I thought. We'd been up for more than a full day, so Dale and I left the paperwork and went back to my place. We showered and fell, exhausted, into my bed.

Later that night, after we woke up, I poured out my guilt. "I asked the judge to grant Leland bail, Coop. If he hadn't been out, Maddy would still be alive."

He held me, and whispered soft, rational words of comfort. It didn't erase the guilt, but it helped. It was enough to let me sleep again.

We spent the next few nights in my bed, using love to push aside the ugliness we'd seen. I hadn't said it, and neither had he, but when I thought about us, love was the word I found myself using in my mind. We had those three nights to heal and be alone before things started to change again.

I knew that he would leave Twin Peaks soon, but we didn't talk about that until the night before Leland's funeral. Our last night.

We'd made love, and were lying together in my bed. His bandages were off, and for the first time I had the chance to really look at his wound. We'd showered together, sure, and his bandages had been off then, but I'd been either too exhausted or too aroused every time to really look. Lying there, looking at him, I saw his scar for the first time. Leland, in his ravings, had referred to Pittsburgh and knives. How he could have known that was a question I couldn't answer, but I put two and two together. Whatever had happened there that he blamed himself for, he had been stabbed. It was a chilling thought. I again considered asking him about it, but instead I asked the other question that was on my mind.

"Paperwork's done, Coop. Case is closed. What happens now?"

"Well, Harry, I've got to go back and make a few arrangements first, but I do have a bit of vacation time coming. I'd like to come back and visit very soon."

"That sounds good. You can even skip the hotel reservations if you like, save yourself a little money."

"And where would I stay, Harry?" His smile told me that he knew what I meant, that he just wanted to hear me say it.

I smiled back. "Well, we don't have any prisoners right now, there's lots of bed space at the station."

We laughed together at that, the first real laugh we'd had since Leland's death.

"You know I meant that you could stay with me. If you don't mind the company."

"Harry, I'll be here. I just hope your mattress can survive." We then proceeded to test the endurance of the mattress. Again.

It didn't answer the larger question, of what we were, of what would happen when his vacation ended and he started another case in another city, but it meant that we could put that question off for a while, and that was enough.

I had the dream again that night, same as the time before. Standing at the top of the falls, I saw Dale, saw Josie, watched her vanish, and joined him at the edge. He turned his back to the drop, closed his eyes, smiled, opened his mouth to speak, and I woke up. Dale would leave. But he would be back.

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THE END

Feedback? Pretty please with Cooper/Truman on top?

Tiriel

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