Work Text:
"Diane, it's six forty-five AM," is the first thing that Harry hears Dale say that morning, and it takes him a second to work out that there isn't anybody else in the room. "I hope the microphone on this recorder is as sensitive as advertised, because I am trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to awaken Sheriff Truman." Harry keeps his eyes closed out of pure curiosity, because apparently Dale has something to say that he doesn't want Harry hearing. He's not sure why Dale doesn't realize he's already awake; maybe this is a setup. Harry stays quiet either way, too intrigued to do otherwise.
"I suppose you and I can dispense with the formalities, Diane," Dale says, "because he's here in bed with me, following a night that can only be described as stunning." He pauses. "Well, in truth, there are probably a lot of words to describe it, but that's the one I keep coming back to." Harry feels both proud of himself and a little concerned; he's not convinced that Dale's not about to start giving whoever Diane is the play-by-play on what happened. He's not exactly excited about the prospect of sharing that information with someone he doesn't know.
"I do feel stunned," Dale says. "This has all blown up out of nowhere, like a sudden storm on a smooth and tranquil lake- not that I'm accustomed to a huge amount of tranquility, as well you know. I never expected Twin Peaks to catch me like it did, enfolding me so easily that it feels like I was always meant to be here." He gently swirls his fingers through Harry's hair, lightly enough that it seems like Dale is still trying not to wake him. "It definitely feels like I was always meant to be in this bed, with Harry next to me." Dale pauses. "However, if we were as loud as I suspect we were, I would not be surprised if I were cordially invited to seek lodging elsewhere."
That part is completely true. Anybody who stayed in the Great Northern last night is gonna have a very interesting view of Twin Peaks, that's for sure. Harry isn't loud by nature, but he hadn't been able to keep it in, just wanted it, all of it, so much that he shouted, unable to hold anything back. Everything about it felt so right, seemed as easy as breathing, totally natural. It hadn't even occurred to him that there was anyone else to listen, anybody else in the entire world, and he knows without even asking that Dale felt the same way.
Maybe Dale could be convinced to have breakfast somewhere else.
"Diane," Dale says intently, "have you ever had a moment of such perfect clarity that it seems like the world has been revealed to you, like it's a crystal, a gem you can see every facet of, every edge, every single aspect, and in that one moment, you know precisely the shape of your life, the form it will take? Maybe it's more like an icicle, because life is like that, our plans changing and our worlds evolving. But this-"
Dale stops for a long moment before he continues. "I saw my life, Diane. I saw everything I've been, and everything I am becoming. I saw that coming here was coming home. It was a long road that took me here, and nothing about me would be the same if I hadn't traveled down it. But now, this is where it ends. This is what I've been looking for the entire time."
Harry's heart clenches. He wonders if Dale really can't see it, if he's blind to what's happened; he knows the time since he met Dale is, in the grand scheme of things, essentially negligible, but it sure as hell doesn't feel that way. It seems like the entire world flipped when Dale showed up. Dale might think he arrived and got sucked in, but everything in Harry's world has changed so fundamentally that it feels like Dale carved out his own space in it, slotted himself in, rearranged everything to fit so tightly that he's integral to it now; Harry already knows that when he leaves, the hole he made is going to be incredibly hard to fill, if not impossible. If this is the place that Dale belongs, it's not because he stumbled onto perfection. He made something brand new out of what he found, and so far Harry is having no trouble living with it.
Many, many, many experiences have taught Harry that he's a complete sucker who loses his heart at the drop of a hat. He already knows it's happening again.
Dale sighs heavily. "I can't keep fooling myself, thinking it will be good enough save this place until I retire, as if I have to wait until my life is all but over to be where I should be. If Gordon comes and offers to lift my suspension, I-"
Harry tenses, waiting for the rest of the sentence, but Dale breaks off suddenly. "Diane," Dale says, sounding slightly annoyed. "I've just realized that Harry is awake and listening, despite pretending to be asleep."
"You're not really gonna send that back to the FBI, are you?" Harry asks warily, after Dale has turned off the recorder. There are things the federal government really doesn't need to know, and Harry isn't completely confident that Dale knows where the line is.
"Two sets of tapes," Dale says, and true to his word, he pops the tape out of the recorder, picking up a different one and putting it in instead. "Also sometimes I just don't turn the recorder on. It serves as a device to externalize my thoughts."
"Fair enough," Harry says, as Dale sets the recorder back on the nightstand; it strikes him that it really hasn't taken him very long at all to get accustomed to hearing new weird things that Dale does. Of course, if he took time out for every new weird thing, he'd never get anything done.
Dale turns back towards him, putting his arm around Harry's waist. He hesitates a moment; Harry's pretty damn impatient to hear what he has to say, but he's sure talking into a recorder is a lot easier than saying it to somebody's face. "I meant everything I said," Dale says finally.
"I know," Harry says; it's probably not a very good answer, but it's the one he has right now. "You didn't finish your sentence."
"If Gordon offers to lift my suspension, I will have to think very hard about my answer," Dale says, sighing. "Much harder than I ever expected."
"You always have a job with me," Harry says, letting the rest go unspoken. He pauses for a moment before adding, "if you think that would be enough."
Dale turns away from him, putting his hand behind his head. "Harry, do you know what fills me with the deepest satisfaction?"
"Coffee?" Harry says, just to be an asshole.
"That is high on the list," Dale allows. "The thing that satisfies me the most is looking at the sky. I love the sunset, the sunrise-" He turns, looking at Harry again. "Did you know that Twin Peaks has the most amazing stars I have seen in probably twenty years? Just because I came from somewhere else and enjoy a nice suit doesn't mean that I need constant novelty and flashy entertainment." Dale looks him firmly in the eye, that intense look that Harry finds it very hard to look away from. "What I want is sturdy, steady, and reliable, nothing more, nothing less. None of those qualities makes a thing less desirable or less precious."
Harry has no idea what to say. It's too big, all of it, more than he can fit inside of him at once; he just kisses Dale instead, hoping that says enough.
"I hope you don't plan on going out to look at the sunrise today," Harry says, when they part.
Dale rolls over, pushing himself up and caging Harry in with his arms. "I can see it fine from here," he says, leaning down and kissing him again.
Yeah, Harry's pretty sure his heart is well and truly gone. This time, though, he thinks that he might have found someone who'll take good care of it.