#//I'mma work on asks I missed in the meantime

[absinthiium]

//Like this for a starter? Feel free to tell me if you have any ideas in mind!

[emeraldinthesky]

STRANGE TRAILS - Chapter 1 - Through the Pines

A/N: I've been rewatching Twin Peaks and couldn't help but fall in love - again - with our valiant agent. This story will contain dialogue from the series. You can also follow this story here.

SUMMARY: Agent Cooper does expect his colleague, Albert to arrive in Twin Peaks to assist him in the investigation of Laura Palmer's death. He also hopes that Rosenfield will bring along a certain forensic pathologist of his team, who's special, not just for the FBI, but Cooper himself.

’Sheriff, this is Lucy.’ Cooper and Harry got alerted from the radio as they were inspecting the bloodsoaked towel in front of them. ’Is Agent Cooper with you?’ ’Yes, he is.’ The sheriff replied. ’Are Albert and his team here, Lucy?’ The man in the suit inquired knowingly as if he could see through the wall or read the mind of the naive receptionist. ’Yes, he is. They are.’ The dumbfounded phrases came through the digital terrain. ’We’re on our way.’ The agent assured her confidently, and they headed out to the hallway, but not before Coop alerted his new friend about the forensic leader's peculiar nature. That being, that he's the best at the corp, but also, an asshole to interact with.

They stepped out of the conference room, and just across, at the entrance, there they were: three tall, suited men, two of which kept on their aviator sunglasses even inside. As Cooper spotted a young woman along the three tall men, his eyes lit up and an affectionate smile spread his face. Her light blonde hair cascaded onto her shoulders, and her brown eyes resembled the shade of a perfectly brewed, hot espresso. She was dressed casually, with the widely recognized navy blue FBI jacket zipped down in the heated building. This broke the pattern of the group, although only meant that she was one - or the one - to drive up here. 'Agent Cooper.' She nodded to him. 'Miss Davis.' He returned the greeting. ’What the hell kind of a two-bit operation they’re running out at this treehouse, Cooper?’ The tall man in the middle interrupted their small banter. ’Albert, this is Sheriff Truman.’ The agent introduced them to each other without batting an eye at the comment the other man-made, but Albert remained similarly oblivious to his words. ’I have seen some slip shop blackwater burgs, but this place takes the cake.’ The girl Coop addressed as Miss Davis rolled her eyes and shot an apologetic glance at Lucy – so the agent knew his forensic colleague wasn’t acting up to par since they entered the station. While Albert continued his heated monologue, Davis turned to Cooper, and after a suggestive look at the man next to her, she crossed her eyes and the agent couldn’t suppress a chuckle. ’What are you waiting for, Christmas? We’ve got work to do, dammit. They’re putting this girl in the ground tomorrow, and we’ve wasted half the day traveling here to the middle of nowhere. ’Well, Albert, I suggest you and your team should get started.’ Cooper agreed with a fazed expression, after elevating his gaze from the woman. ’I’ll have one of my men escort you over to the morgue.’ The sheriff included, although he was noticeably not pleased with the manners demonstrated by the lead investigator of the forensic team. ’That’d be fine.’ He nodded. ’Results from a local pathologist’s report.’ The black-haired man handed them the files, and Albert took a brief read into the report. ’Welcome to amateur hour.’ Rosenfield scoffed. ’Looks like an all-nighter, boys.’ He shut the files close in a theatrical fashion and was just about to leave, when Harry grabbed his shoulder: ’Albert. Got a minute?’ They separated a few feet away from the group and the sheriff had a close heart-to-heart with the scientist. In the meantime, Coop exploited this opportunity to turn his attention to the blonde. ’So, Vicky, how do you like Twin Peaks?’ ’I threw this manchild out of my car halfway here and now I'mma spend the night with him. I’d say I’m in for a treat.’ She retorted, and it was the first time her Texan accent made an appearance. Although it grew weaker over the years, her tonation haven't lost its melodic aspect. ’And how are you, Agent Cooper?’ ’Never been better.’ A wide smile spread the man’s face, but Rosenfield abruptly left the police station and that meant the end of their small exchange. ’See ya, Dale.’ She waved to them and went after her team.

’So, what did you tell Albert?’ Cooper inquired from the curly-haired man when the other returned to his side. ’That he’ll be looking for his teeth if he keeps up with that attitude.’ Harry explained, still tensed and annoyed by the encounter. The agent gave him an appreciative nod. 'And you two, how long has it been?' The sheriff cocked an eyebrow at his partner. 'How can you tell?' Cooper asked, although his voice was fainter than usual. 'Body language.' The man grinned widely. 'Sheriff, I have to give it to you, it was a keen observation.' The special agent turned to his new friend, now much more like himself. 'Three years ago when she began working at the FBI, we had a brief affair. It was a negative influence on our professional sphere so we've put an end to it shortly after. We've been friends ever since.' 'Seems like both of you have more than friendship in mind.' Harry noted suggestively. 'She's the brightest investigator on the forensic team. And one of the youngest to make to the FBI.' Cooper continued with proud amazement. He used a similar tone to describe her as he did with Rosenfield, but a certain gentleness mixed into his expression. He meant every word, but they also meant something else. 'How old is she?' '27 this October. Already promised her a nice cup of coffee for that day.' The agent responded as they retreated to their task in the conference room.

Rosenfield wasn't exactly short in supply when it came to snarky comments about the town, and surely practiced them during the city seeing route it took to arrive to the morgue - at least, that was Victoria's speculation when she closed her car with the key, only to hear his boss make vicious remarks about the building and the weather. A tall, long-haired man with earrings emerged from the police car and nodded them to follow him inside. 'Look, the Chief wants us to follow. Maybe he'll whip out a calumet.' Albert scoffed as the woman rejoined them. A loud sigh escaped the blonde woman's lips as the men shared a chuckle. She had been working closely with Albert for 3 years now; being his assistant meant she was placed wherever he was, and she was unable to leave his side. It also meant that she grew almost immune to his unsavory personal notes and not-so-charming attitude, but Twin Peaks brought the worst out of him. She haven't seen him so sour since that time in Alaska, where the small hospital doubled as a lab and a morgue, and the heating system bailed on them, because, well, something went haywire and nobody cared enough to fix it. The policeman handed them off to a diener, to lead them to the corpse they traveled to examine. She expected from the report, that the only forensic scientist in the area was the senior physician; it was a remarkable accomplishment from the supposedly old man, but filled with inaccuracies, misinterpretations, and missing data. And just as she speculated - the evidence has been fumbled around with, greasy police-fingerprints all over, and she could have sworn to recognize Cooper's thumb on one of them. She had seen it enough times to tell. In his defense, he did get better at wearing gloves after she made him sit through an evaluation. These were the moments she understood how Albert became such a sullen character; when they don't respect your work enough to put a glove on after munching down chocolate-glazed donuts, you begin to consider to incriminate the police officer who doesn't understand the idea of scene contamination. Shit, maybe she was becoming like him. Vicky pulled her long hair into a bun, and she curved her labcoat on herself. She fished around in its pockets for her gold-rimmed glasses. Maybe that's the reason why, but Cooper's delightful manners sparked a slight warmth in her chest. Oh, who she was kidding - it was a bonfire that could burn down witches. Yet, it was so nice to have a friendly, intentive chit-chat, one that wasn't ornamented with decay, bowel containments, or the unsatisfaction with anything lower of standards than Harvard or the Bureau laboratories. Even hovering over a 7-day old corpse couldn't wash away that utter contentment, especially since Rosenfield and the boys focused their attention on the work to be done. Jeremy, their chemist and ballistic expert took the necessary samples, and so did Chris, their biologist and DNA-specialist, to retreat to their own corner. Victoria was left with her boss to further inspect the body and occasionally furthering certain pieces to the rest of the investigators. After years, it was still unnerving to phantom that this body lying lifelessly on their autopsy table, was not long ago was a young girl, just beginning her journey of unforeseeable and puzzling crossroads. It was nauseating for some, but for Vicky, it was fascinating. Opening up the skin to fold it over, marveling at the mechanism behind it and making the dead talk again. Piecing the information together and searching for answers and clues were invigorating for her; and the gruesome nature made it all the more exciting. 'Would you still like to work in a run-down PD like this?' Rosenfield asked her out of the blue. They were opening the Palmer girl's abdomen, rummaging around emotionlessly in the cold insides. 'You know, Albert, just because certain departments are not as well-financed, or the people working in them aren't as privileged as we are, it doesn't mean their work is any less meaningful.' She passed him an instrument then continued to secure the opening with metal clips. 'No. It just means it's worse.' He said with a cynical smirk and cut the stomach open. Another thing she mastered during their work together - sort out the constructive criticism, and let the remarks go; only this time, Albert was considerably more offensive than usual.

She knew it would be a long night.