tibetanmethod | (no subject)

A slight smile. "Moiraine, did I ever tell you about my very first case as an agent of the Bureau? -- it's your move."

"I know," she replies, but does not reach for a piece.

"Which case would this have been?"

Or rather, why is he bringing it up now?

"A kidnapping. A little girl. Eight years old. She was found alive, in the dead of winter, chained to a tree, for no purpose other than to extort money from her parents. And that was a case that ended well."

Cooper takes a sip of coffee.

Peacefully:

"The vast majority of the cases investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation are best worked by traditional methods. Methods such as I tend to employ are not in high demand, because there's not a high need. If this country is plagued by evil, mostly it's small, petty evil, committed by small, petty citizens. Twin Peaks is an anomaly in more ways than one, Moiraine. And I'm of more use here."

"Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"... I see. Or at least, I believe that I may," she says, after some moments' deliberation.

A pause.

"Although if you wish to explain further, I would not object."

Some things are too important to run the risk of error where it may be avoided.

"It's not just my happiness, Moiraine. It's that there are things in the woods. Portals within the sycamore groves. Harry -- he's very good at his job, but for some things, you need a specialist. While we all have an interest in national security -- and I love my country, very much, it's why I went to the Bureau to begin with -- but when it comes to the Bureau, I'm not the best. Not even close."

Cooper pauses.

More quietly: "And I have an interest in making sure this town stays safe. Or as safe as it can. And it may be hubris, but I think Twin Peaks is safer with me than without me."

"I do not think it is hubris," Moiraine replies, softly. "And I would not disagree that Twin Peaks is fortunate to have you."

"But I would not wish to see you unhappy, either, if there were another way."

"I'm not unhappy, Moiraine." Another smile, slightly broader than the last. "It was my privilege to serve my fellow citizens as a special agent of the FBI for over twelve years. And I'll still serve my fellow citizens, albeit on a much smaller scale. I've done my best to conduct myself with honor and I will do my best to make sure that doesn't change. Harry trusts me enough to honor me with the position, and I'm grateful for the new privilege. And that's all there is to it."

"Is it," she murmurs. "I see."

Cooper sips his coffee, and waits patiently for Moiraine to make her move.

She studies the board in silence for several seconds, or appears to, at least.

Abruptly,

"It is done, then? There is no going back?"

Cooper glances at her.

"No going back."

Mild.

Moiraine nods, once, and says nothing.

After a moment, she reaches to move her knight.

The fine tremor in her fingers as she does so is almost unnoticeable.

He watches her hands -- of course. And just because he doesn't employ traditional methods in investigation, it doesn't mean he doesn't know them. Doesn't mean he's not one of the best with them. It begins with observation.

Cooper watches her hands.

"You're bothered by my leaving the Bureau?" Once she's made her move.

She glances up at him.

"Should I be?"

He'll turn it around on her, as she does on him. "I don't know. Should you?"

"It is a good question," the Aes Sedai replies, serenely.

A pause.

"Both more and less than I am, perhaps."

Cooper raises his eyebrows.

"Why is that?"

Her hesitation is visible, but brief, and she meets his glance directly as she says,

"I will be frank with you, Dale; it is the timing that concerns me."

"Can you expand?"

He knows -- he's pretty sure he knows -- but he wants to hear it.

A soft breath, followed by a slight sigh, and then:

"Did my presence here have anything to do with your decision?"

He knows.

"Not as much as you might think," Cooper says, mildly. "Call it the catalyst."

She studies him for several moments, then nods, evidently accepting this.

"May I thank you anyway?"

"As long as you understand that any thanks are completely unnecessary." With a slight smile. "Truly."

"I do," Moiraine replies. "And yet."

A beat of silence.

"Thank you. Guardian."

The slight smile turns into something a little more rueful, a little more crooked. Cooper hides it by finishing off his cup of coffee.

After:

"Friend," he says. "Guardian when necessary, especially now. But friend first."