Awareness

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

Picks up the story a few hours after "Enough" -still beaucoup de spoilers here, so go away if you don't want to see them. It's occurred to me that this isn't strictly "missing scenes" because I do include some stuff that you saw onscreen. But I don't change any of it. So, what the hell, let's just say that it doesn't contradict canon in any way.

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.

The angst is back. Josie returns...and yep, Harry's still hot for her. But you've seen the show, you knew that already. m/f implied, but it happens "offscreen" And for those of you who don't recognize it in this part, the recurring dream is in part lifted from a wonderful but little-known film which will receive credit in due time.

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It turned out that Dale didn't leave Twin Peaks right away after all. He had just said his goodbyes at the station and was about to leave for his fishing trip, after which he'd leave town. Then the news of his suspension and investigation came in. Mountie King and Agent Hardy questioned Dale, then called me in. As we passed in the doorway, I gave him a signal of reassurance, the Bookhouse Boys secret sign. "I'm looking out for you," it meant. It was all I could do right then, in front of everyone. I told King and Hardy--should've been Laurel and Hardy for the kind of job they did--precisely what I thought of their investigation, or as close to precisely as I could come and still use words fit for a professional environment. Then I told them how highly I thought of Dale. As a lawman, that is. I can't say I was sad that he had to stay in town, but it's not how I would have liked to have him stay.

Coop decided to stick to his plan to go night fishing with Major Briggs, to try to forget about the investigation for a little while. That night, alone in my bed, I heard a noise at the back door. I got up, gun ready, and opened it.

If Dale hadn't been out fishing with Garland Briggs that night, if he'd been in my bed, how would things have been different? How would I have reacted when Josie stumbled through my door, exhausted and terrified? How would she have reacted to finding a man in my bed? It doesn't do any good to ask those questions, though. Dale had gone night fishing with the Major, I was in bed alone, and when Josie stumbled through the door, I took her to bed with me and held her until I went to sleep.

In the morning, I rolled over sleepily and draped my arm across the body in my bed. I kissed the dark hair, tousled by sleep, and then was suddenly alert. The scent wasn't Dale's. It was Josie's. Then I remembered the night before and I sat up in bed, a feeling of wrongness in the pit of my stomach. Then Josie woke up and turned to me. She seemed so small, so fragile. I kept drawing comparisons between her and Dale and hating myself for doing it. Then whatever it was about her that made me feel drunk, addicted, kept me from thinking, took effect, and it was like it always was.

As I hurried to get ready to leave for the station, I said, "I'll come back first chance I get. You rest until then, but I need to know what happened." I kissed her on the forehead and left.

I didn't tell him that she was back. Not right away. I didn't know how. I told myself that he had enough on his mind with the investigation of his conduct, his suspension. What was I supposed to say? "Oh, by the way, Coop, you were gone last night, so I let Josie keep your side of the bed warm." Yeah, right. So I let myself forget about it. I paid attention to the news of Garland's disappearance, Hardy and King's investigation of Dale, Dale and Hawk's talk of the White Lodge. Then there was meeting Agent Bryson, a unique experience. Although considering some of the residents of Twin Peaks, unique shouldn't surprise me.

By then, I'd decided to hear Josie's side of things before talking to Dale. That seemed enough like a reasonable choice, it felt like something rational, not like I was afraid to tell him, not like I felt guilty.

So I went home to talk to Josie. I held her, and I told her that I needed answers if we were going to be together. With her nestled in my arms like that, it felt like the right thing to say. She told me about her life on the streets in Hong Kong, her life with Thomas Eckhardt, how Andrew had offered escape from him, how she believed he had planned Andrew's death, how the mysterious Asian man she'd left with had been trying to take her back to Eckhardt. She was so frightened when she told me that she'd escaped in the airport and would rather die than go back. I told her I'd take care of her, protect her. I told her she could stay with me, that I'd keep her safe. I left her to rest some more while I went to the Milford wedding.

At the reception, I kept up the illusion that nothing had changed. I'd been to so many Milford weddings that it felt a little like habit already, so it wasn't hard. When things began to wind down, and the newlyweds had gone upstairs, which meant I wouldn't have to break up any more fights between Dwayne and Dougie, I approached Dale.

"I need to tell you something. Can we go upstairs?"

"Certainly, Harry," he said.

So we went upstairs to his room, and I suddenly wondered if maybe I shouldn't have chosen somewhere more neutral, more public. A place where we'd never been naked together. I took a deep breath and began.

"Dale, late last night I heard a noise outside the back door of my house. I got up to check it out." I paused, not wanting to say what had to come next. "Dale, it was Josie. She was frightened and exhausted and she came to me for help. That man--the one she told me was her assistant and told Pete was her cousin--he was taking her back to a man she used to work for in Hong Kong. A very bad man. She escaped and came back here. To me."

"I see, Harry. She's going to stay with you, then."

"She needs my protection." His calm acceptance of the situation made me oddly angry. I'd expected, I'd been braced for more of a reaction than this. I kept speaking. "I mean, it's not like we made any promises to each other, is it, Dale?"

"No, Harry, you're absolutely right, we didn't. You are perfectly free to see anyone you choose. In fact, you probably ought to get home and make sure she's okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

After all we'd shared, I still wasn't any good at reading his eyes. I thought I heard weariness in his voice, though. I wanted to say something then, to make it all better, but he had clearly dismissed me. So instead all I said was "Yeah, right. See you tomorrow." My voice sounded flat. I left and went home, only to find Josie gone. First I worried. Then I raged. Then I drank until I could fall asleep.

The next day was occupied with the aftermath of Dougie Milford's death. That made it easy to keep everything business as usual. I hardly saw Dale at all. I found myself more disturbed than I'd expected at the thought of him spending so much time with Bryson, though. When I got home, there was a message on the answering machine from Josie. She said that she was at home and that I shouldn't worry about her. I had to drink to be able to sleep that night, too.

The next morning, after talking to the Major about his disappearance and reappearance, after he was taken away by the Air Force men who came for him, I went to see her. I felt the same desperation I had the last time I'd seen her in that house. I begged her to let me take care of her, protect her. Told her again that I loved her. I couldn't keep my hands or my lips away from her. If it hadn't been for a sudden noise from the next room that reminded us that Pete was at home, I probably would have taken her right there and then, on the floor of the kitchen. Nothing was settled between us, but I had to go back to the station.

When I gave Coop that deputy's badge, his smile made me feel just for a moment as if things were all right again, even though I knew they weren't. Maybe they never would be. When the setup went bad and I couldn't stop Dale from walking into that house, saying so calmly "He came for me, Harry," it hit me. He had walked coolly into a situation that could easily end in his death. He either trusted us to get him out, or he didn't care. I was not going to let him die. I loved him. I let myself say it in my head a few times while we waited for backup, an odd spike of giddiness in that tense situation. *I love Dale Cooper. Harry loves Dale.*

In the end, my plan worked. Jean Renault was dead, King was arrested, and Coop was all right. Except for a cut next to his eye that it pained me to see, he was unharmed. I wanted to tell him then, in the truck on the way back to the station, but he seemed so normal that I began to doubt. I'd already made declarations of love to Josie that day and had them go unreturned. I didn't feel ready to do it again. It hadn't bothered him at all that she was back. He didn't love me.

Then, at the station, there was the body of Windom Earle's first pawn. We were up all night looking for clues Cooper said we wouldn't find. In the morning, resisting the urge to push back the lock of his hair that had fallen forward into his face, I asked him for answers about Earle.

He stared off into space most of the time as he told me about Caroline, about Pittsburgh, only rarely making the eye contact that was such a hallmark of his conversational style. It was almost like talking to a different person. I tried to keep my questions relevant to the case.

"Harry," he said, "Caroline was Windom Earle's wife."

That took the breath right out of me. I sat down in my chair and asked another question. Then he leaned forward, and he did make eye contact as he told me the worst of it, that he believed Earle had stabbed him and killed Caroline. He actually looked afraid as he said, "You don't know what he's capable of, Harry. You don't know."

I wondered then, briefly, if assigning him the case of the dead vagrant had been a good idea. Between moments of being horrified at what Earle had done and worried about what he would do, I found myself wishing Dale had told me on his own, had trusted, cared enough. Soon I had even more to occupy my mind.

Major Briggs returned with dire warnings about things to come. Then there was Mayor Milford showing up with a gun. Lana's charm took care of that situation fairly quickly, at least. Then the news came in from Seattle about Jonathan's death. For the first time, I voiced the suspicions that had been growing in my mind about Josie.

I asked Coop to look into it, knowing that he would be thorough and fair. As I was about to leave the reception area, I heard his voice.

"So, is she still staying with you?"

I thought about turning around to see his expression, but decided I'd rather not. "No. After the night she came back, she spent part of the day at my place and was gone by the time I got home. She's staying back at the Packard house, she seems to think she's safe there. Catherine has her acting as their maid. Anything else you need to know to get started?"

"No, that should do it," he said, and I left for home.

The knock on my front door that night came as a surprise. I was just about to go to bed and catch up on lost sleep, or try to, when I heard it. The knock had been soft, hesitant, so I was even more surprised to see that it was Dale on my doorstep.

"Harry, I may be overstepping, and you can tell me to leave if you want. But I'd--I'd rather not be alone."

I was overwhelmed with sadness for him. How bad did a man like him have to feel before he'd come to me, asking like this? Especially after the way we'd left things the other day. I opened my arms, and he stepped closer. I pulled him in close to me, and held him tightly. The feeling of love that I'd only fully realized the night before came back to me then, passed through me from head to toe and made my eyes sting. I kicked the door closed and said softly, "Tell me what you want, Dale."

He didn't answer me, not with words. His hands moved to my chest. I had already stripped down to my t-shirt and boxers, had been about to change for bed when I'd heard his knock. His touch was tentative, unsure.

"Anything you want, Dale. Anything you need, it's yours. It's all yours."

I was trying to reassure him, and it must have worked, because his hands, still cool from the night air, were less hesitant then. They moved up under my shirt and across my chest. I lifted my arms and let him pull my shirt off over my head. Then he took my hands in his and pulled them to the buttons of his own shirt. I took the hint and helped him out of his shirt and undershirt. I ran the tip of a finger across his scar. Then he pulled me in close, chest to chest, and closed his eyes.

It felt so good to have his bare skin against mine that I think I almost could have come just from that. Neither of us moved for a long time. We just stood there. Then, after what seemed like forever, his hands moved down my back and slid into my boxers. He gripped my ass, pulled our groins together hard, and kissed me for the first time that night. It was a rough kiss, almost bruising. When his mouth broke away from mine, he tugged my boxers off. I was going to reach to help him out of his pants, but he wasn't there. I ended up running my hands through his hair as he sucked me. Then, just as abruptly as he had started, he stopped.

I felt cool air on my wet cock as he stood back up in front of me, naked. I guess he must have removed the rest of his clothes while he was kneeling. He sat down on the edge of my couch and spread his legs wide. His meaning was unmistakable. I started to leave the room to get the necessary supplies, but he caught my hand.

"Now. Please." He hadn't spoken since he was on the doorstep, and his voice was husky and dark with need. I couldn't refuse him anything. Later on, shocked at myself, I was able to rationalize it, say that we hadn't been a hundred percent safe in our previous encounters anyway, and that as law enforcement professionals we both got regular physicals, but I have to admit that none of those things passed through my mind then. I looked into his eyes and knelt in front of him on the floor, between his spread legs.

I leaned forward and licked him. I started at his cock and worked my way down to his tight opening. Putting my tongue there was not something I'd ever thought I'd find myself doing, but it seemed right. I lifted my head and started to ease a spit-slicked finger into him, but he reached down and grasped my wrist hard.

Again his meaning was clear. Afraid of hurting him, I positioned myself and pushed forward as gently as I could, easing the head of my cock, still wet from his mouth, into him. Once I'd done that, he didn't let me continue slowly. He pushed himself forward, wincing as he took me completely inside of him. His panting seemed like the only sound in the world right then.

He wrapped his legs around my waist and squeezed, urging me to move. I put one hand on his hip and the other on his cock. No matter how hard, how fast I went, his legs squeezed harder, his silent demand for more. At some point, our eyes met and locked together, our gasps of breath settled into a single rhythm, and he stopped pushing me for more. Our pace became less frantic, more smooth. It had always felt like giving. Now it felt like love.

"Dale," I said, and I'm pretty sure I was about to tell him I loved him, because in that moment I was certain he loved me too and it was the purest feeling of joy. His back arched, he pushed his head back into the couch, and I felt his muscles clenching and releasing around my shaft as he came. I couldn't finish my sentence as my own orgasm hit.

When I felt capable of walking again, I stood up and lifted him into my arms. It felt strange, carrying someone almost as large as me to my bed. I put him down and crawled in next to him. I considered a shower, but decided that could wait until morning. I'd been up for over a day and a half.

As I dropped into a deep sleep, I thought I heard him say something, but his voice was too soft and I was too tired to be sure.

The dream that night was different again. Josie still vanished, but then after I joined Dale at the edge she reappeared, her back turned to me. I called out to her, but she couldn't hear me. Next to me, Dale closed his eyes, smiled, and said, "Catch me, baby." I saw him tilt backward, start to fall, and I woke up with a jolt. I knew then that there was something about the dream that I should recognize. It reminded me of something I'd seen or heard, but I couldn't place it. I rolled over to see if Dale was still asleep. He wasn't. He wasn't in the shower or the kitchen or anywhere. He was gone.

Until that moment, I hadn't realized just how much I'd looked forward to seeing him next to me when I woke up, his first smile of the day, the cowlick that so often appears in his hair overnight. Maybe I had just been comfort to him last night, nothing more.

I don't usually talk to myself out loud, but that time I did. I groaned. "Damn, it! How did things get so complicated?" I didn't get an answer. Probably because I was alone.

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THE END

Please do feed the animals.

Tiriel

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