An Introduction to Allergies (Agent Cooper) (1/1)

[drpeppergrinder]

Hello forum! I posted this on tumblr in response to an ask about headcanons re: allergies for Agent Cooper (Twin Peaks), which sparked this quick oneshot I figured I'd post here as well. This can definitely be read as a standalone -- just something I imagined for the character, to take place a couple years before Twin Peaks begins, when Cooper is a little newer to traveling to work cases for the FBI. Zero familiarity with the series required. If you don't know Cooper, just imagine a very well dressed Special Agent I will now unravel ;)

 

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - --

 

The sheriff stares, waiting for his interpretation of the crime scene, but the look on Agent Cooper’s face is less pensive than it is expectant and rapidly transforming into an irritated grimace as he wrenches suddenly into a elbow with a sneeze that’s loud enough to invite glances from colleagues nearby. And then a follow up that’s louder. And then one more, similar in volume and forceful enough to bend him fully in half.

What is happening? Something is really bothering his sinuses and airways, and timing-wise it must be a response to something in this field of unfamiliar flora, where he’s just trying his best to concentrate on an aspect of his work that requires use of all of his senses, but clearly several of those senses are being hijacked by a rejection of some stimulus, origin unknown.

It started not long after he got out of the car, a distracting, steadily intensifying itch. His whole face feels very tingly and a trickling stream of wetness threatens to leak from his eyes or nose or both at any moment, and oh is... is he going to sneeze again? It’s never been more than three at a time (is in fact always exactly three at a time) and — wow, yes he is going to—

“EyyYISSHHoo!” ...First time for everything. Or fourth, as the case may be.

“My goodness, excuse me,” he says, blinking in bleary-eyed surprise at his own display.

“Bless you,” the forensic photographer calls from the opposite side of a line of police tape, and he snuffles a thank you.

“Allergies?”

“None that I was aware of up until this moment,” he contemplates curiously, sniffling and fingering away a tear, “It does feel as if I’m having a reaction to something but I’m not sure what.”

The sheriff volunteers some info as Cooper reaches into a pocket in the lining of his jacket to extract a pristine handkerchief that’s about to become not-so-pristine.

“A lot of folks are allergic to juniper around here.”

He clears his throat, which is starting to feel itchy as well, “As in the berry?”

“Yup, it’s a tree that produces berries.”

“Could also be mulberry or chamisa,” a deputy suggests, “But if you’re not allergic to any other types of pollen?”

“Not that I’ve encountered before, no.”

“Then it’s probably juniper. You can have no other allergies in the world and still be allergic to it.”

Cooper issues an impressed whistle and a sincere, “Fascinating,” and returns to the task at hand.

But as their exhaustive survey of the area is performed — evidence collected, photos taken, initial hypotheses exchanged — his sinuses are exhausted in the process, and his interest in the novelty of what it feels like when histamines are released is eclipsed by the decided conclusion that it is mercilessly aggravating.

He must have sneezed a dozen or more times over the last hour in tiring, ticklish trios of allergic expulsion, blessed habitually each time by the photographer, who he in turn thanks habitually each time in a silly routine (“HeiYIISHHue, ISSHHuu! …Hih!… hih’YIISHHuue!!” “God bless you.” “snf! Thank you.”) that’s probably become annoying to everyone there. And when not actively sneezing he vaguely feels as if he’s about to — an insatiable, frustrating buzzing sensation always hovering just out of reach but tantalizing enough to contort his face into a goofy, slack-jawed look that’s occurring much too often for him to retain hopeful grip on an impression of consummate professionalism.  

His appearance has devolved considerably by the time they’re done — his face tear-stained and thoroughly reddened around his eyes and nose, wisps of hair breaking free from the careful hold of his hair gel, an entire dark lock defiantly hanging down over his forehead despite his numerous attempts to quickly smooth it back into place, the right sleeves of his jacket and shirt thoroughly creased and wrinkled from the continuous crooking of his arm and hasty smothering of sneezes, and subtly damp from serving that function as well.

They’re trudging back towards the road when they cross paths with the possible irritant itself.

“Those are junipers over there actually,” the sheriff says in passing, pointing out a cluster of scraggly conifers.

Is it indeed this tree he’s allergic to? Confirming the identity of the allergen responsible for such a powerful reaction seems useful knowledge, and he also happens to be desperately curious.

“Agent Cooper… what are you doing?”

“An experiment,” he says, “I’ll only be a moment.”

It’s maybe ten or fifteen or so yards from the foot trail and as Cooper approaches the trees he realizes this isn’t much of a controlled experiment at all, considering he’s already very much in an allergic state. He quickly blows his nose as if that could reset something to start himself off with a somewhat cleaner slate, or at least a drier one.

They’re strange looking things, junipers, resembling a shrub more than they do a tree, and brimming with the small blue berries he’s pretty sure gin is made from, if he remembers correctly. Cautiously, he grabs a small feathering branch, pulls it toward himself and lets go. It snaps back against the surrounding branches, releasing a vigorous plume of buoyant pollen particles that blossom outward into the air around him, visibly yellow mist in the sunlight.

The effect is so immediate it’s hardly a few seconds before he feels his body’s overwhelming urge to rid itself of every bit of the foreign material he just inhaled — such an aggressive response to this tiny innocuous invader. The sudden inhale he’s forced to take, of the very same air his airways are protesting, strikes him with the thought that some of the mechanisms of sneezing as a physical response to an airborne allergen are a little bit self-defeating. But he really has no say in the matter and all he can do is intake that unsteady breath of still more irritating pollen and comply with his body’s demand to get it the hell back out straight away.

His entire face is a twitching mess of flaring nostrils and crawling brows and he’s only able to bring the handkerchief halfway up before he bends simultaneously at the knees and about the waist with a breathy set of misty sneezes, each consecutively rising in pitch like a slanted dance of notes up the lines of a music sheet.

“EyyYISSHue, YIIZSHHooo!!” A very dramatic gasp and a third sharp, ringing, “HeiyyYIHHOO!!” that forces him to move one stabilizing foot forward so as not to actually fall over.

Exceeding his lifetime set record for the second or was it the third time today, he sucks in a punctuated, vocal hitch of breath, once, twice, and “Hehd’IISHHYUE!!”

Evidently he is allergic to juniper.

“Alright detective,” the sheriff calls from a distance, “You solved your mystery, let’s go get you an antihistamine.”

Face streaming, Cooper squints back at the sheriff and gives an enthusiastic nod and a thumbs up before every feature goes slack yet again.

 

[Tassielli]

!!!!

 

dont know the fandom but I am into this

[RiversD]

Also not a Twin Peaks viewer (though I've seen a fair few clips and gifs), but I saw this on Tumblr and very much enjoyed what I saw.

I love that he's forced to acknowledge/accept the allergy through its sheer impact, and the discomfiture this causes. Also very much appreciated his little "experiment." V..very much...

Enjoyed the breaking of his usual sneezing pattern too, especially as it allowed my brain to go on the requisite "always sneezes in threes, huh?" imaginary tangent, which provided good imagery.

Loving your work!

[Ali Marie]

I just got back from visiting the various places where Twin Peaks was shot--puts this into a nice perspective.

And may I say that this oneshot was...Damn Fine.