Title: Hitting The Peaks

Author: Scribe

Fandom: The Sentinel/Twin Peaks

Pairing: Jim/Blair/Dale Cooper

Rating: NC17

Summary: When Rafe's cousin drops by, Jim and Blair take the opportunity to drill him for information--and fun.

Archive: Yes, but tell me where.

Status: Finished

Sequel/Series: Part of the Swingers Series

Disclaimer: I did not create the characters here, I don't own them. I derive no profit from this effort. I mean nothing but respect for the creators, owners, and the actors and actresses who portray them.

Warnings: Multiple partners

Hitting the Peaks
By Scribe

They hadn't planned on working so late, but Jim had argued that if they could just get this last nagging bit of paperwork out of the way they wouldn't feel obligated to come in tomorrow, on their day off, to finish it. Blair had argued that he ought to be able to go home since Jim was the only one who'd feel obligated--he had absolutely no problem with leaving it till Monday. In the end they had both stayed, Blair grumbling so loud that Jim didn't need to use Sentinel hearing to know that he was displeased.

They both looked up curiously when the door opened. Housekeeping wasn't due for another couple of hours, and the evening shift didn't usually make it up to Major Crimes. Was it an emergency, or was someone just lost?

Blair opted for lost when he saw the searching look the visitor swept over the nearly empty room. He was a very handsome man in his early thirties, wearing an open trench coat over a Black Suit. "Can we help you?"

The man focused in on Blair with sharp brown eyes, and gave him a charming smile, "Well, I certainly hope so!" He came the rest of the way into the room and shut the door.

Jim studied the man. Nice, except that his hair looks like it wouldn't move unless there was a tornado. How much mousse or gel does he use? His nostrils flared suddenly, and he zeroed in on the cardboard box the man was carrying. Suddenly, he was reminded of just how long it had been since lunch.

The man offered his hand to Blair, then Jim. "I'm Special Agent Dale Cooper."

As Jim shook hands he said, "Jim Ellison, and that's my partner, Blair Sandburg. I wasn't aware that we were working on anything with the Feds right now?"

"You aren't, to the best of my knowledge," the man said cheerfully. "Why? Is there something you'd like help with?"

"Uh... no. I was just wondering why you're here."

Cooper looked around the room again. "I was hoping to find Detective Rafe." He pointed at Rafe's desk. "I see that I'm in the right place, but I assume that he must have gone home already."

"No, actually, Rafe managed to finagle a long weekend, and he's skiing in Aspen right about now."

Cooper frowned. "Oops. My timing seems to be off. I was hoping that he could put me up for the night. I'm on my way to investigate a case in a little town called Twin Peaks, and I figured Cascade would be a good stop over. I can make the drive up there tomorrow and arrive at a decent hour."

Blair and Jim exchanged looks. They knew that Rafe was bi, but none of his lovers had ever come to the station, and why would a professional contact be expecting to sleep over? Blair asked, "How do you know Rafe?"

"He's my cousin."

"O-o-h." It was a duet of understanding. Of course. Who hadn't had to deal with putting up visiting relatives.

Blair grinned mischievously. "Jim, we have a golden opportunity here."

Jim arched an eyebrow at him. Yeah, Chief, I think he's cute, too, but I hope you aren't going to
proposition him right here in the bullpen, especially before we have an idea of whether he'll be interested, or jump like a scalded cat. "What's that, Sandburg?"

"We can finally find out about Rafe's name."

Understanding dawned. "That's right! We've been trying to figure out Rafe's other name for ages. We're not even sure if Rafe is really his last name or his first name."

Cooper cocked his head, smiling faintly. "You gentlemen are detectives. Surely you have the
resources to find out for yourself? I mean, his personnel record alone..."

Blair made a dismissive gesture. "What fun would there be in that? No, we made a pact not to go through official channels. I've tried to sneak a glimpse of his driver's license, but he's fast."

"So you want me to snitch on Rafe?"

Jim clapped his hands. "That's it! It's his first name."

"Not necessarily," Cooper demurred.

"But you called him Rafe. Surely you don't call your own cousin by his last name?"

"I don't see why not, if that's what he prefers. Many of my friends call me Coop, and I notice you refer to your friend by his surname."

"Not all the time. Sometimes I call him..."

"You know what he means, Jim," Blair cut him off quickly. There were a few things that Jim called him that were not for public consumption. Jim probably wouldn't come out with one of those, but Blair noticed that Jim had noticed the box of donuts Cooper was carrying. There was no telling what Ellison might do if his brain was fogged by the nearness of fried pastries.

Jim said, "Those donuts must be very fresh." Never mind the smell, I can feel the heat.

Dale Cooper looked down at the box, almost in surprise, as if he had forgotten that he was carrying it. "Why, yes. They were just bringing them out of the kitchen when I arrived." He smiled sunnily. "I'm afraid donuts are one of my weaknesses--right up there with good coffee and cherry pie. I happened to notice a coffee pot over there. I tell you what--if you gentlemen will provide the coffee, I'll provide the donuts."

"Deal." Jim was on his feet, headed for the coffee pot.

"Jim, what about supper?" Blair protested.

Jim was fixing a fresh pot of coffee. "This can be hor d'ouvres."

Dale put the box down on the desk and opened it. "Donuts are always appropriate, Detective Sandburg."

Jim was tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter as the coffee dripped. "Blair and Jim. If you're going to be giving us donuts, you should call us by our first names."

"I should warn you--Jim has a lot of cat in his nature," Blair cautioned. "If you feed him, you may
not be able to get rid of him."

"Really? Jim, do you prefer glazed, chocolate, or filled?"

"I like a little of everything."

Blair arched his eyebrow at the suggestive tone. And he says I'm an incorrigible flirt. While Jim was bringing coffee over to the desk, managing to juggle three Styrofoam cups in his big hands, Blair said, "Jim, Coop seems to be a little stuck. How about giving him a roof over his head for the night?"

And a mattress under his butt. I'm right with you, Blair. "Sounds good to me. Coop, how about staying over with us? We have plenty of room."

"Well, that's certainly decent of you to offer. The Bureau comps me for expenses during field work, of course, but..."

"But their idea of 'timely' and yours doesn't coincide. We're familiar with that concept. Wow.
You've got quite a selection here." Jim's hand hovered over the box, then swooped and came up with a glazed donut. Blair, who might protest but was no slacker when it came to donut consumption, took a plain buttermilk.

Dale Cooper picked up one with green frosting and sprinkles. They all took a moment to munch. Dale indicated their donuts with his own as he swallowed. "This is interesting--you both chose the two plainest donuts, and from what I heard from Rafe, neither one of you are much into vanilla."

Neither Jim nor Blair sprayed crumbs. They came close, but Jim wasn't going to lose a mouthful of donut no matter how startled he was, and Blair gulped. Blair managed speech first. He tried to be casual. "And how did he come to this conclusion?"

Cooper's eyes twinkled. "Don't you occasionally have donuts in the office?"

The two detectives relaxed. "Yeah," Jim said. "Sure we do."

"Then again, it might have been because you two are lovers and have a bit of a reputation for activities that some might find a bit excessive."

Blair gave Jim a pained look. "Our reputation reaches to Quantico, Jim."

Jim shrugged. "Word of mouth is the best advertisement, Blair. But..." he cocked his head at
Dale. "please tell me that you didn't drive all the way up here just to meet us."

"Oh, no. I really am on my way to Twin Peaks, and I really was hoping to see Rafe." He smiled again. "We're only second cousins by blood, but we're very close in other ways."

Blair blinked. "You mean...?"

"At our reunions Rafe and I tend to give new meaning to the term family relations."

Jim took another donut and munched. "Coop, how do you feel about police-Bureau interaction?"

"I'm highly in favor of it. I always do my utmost to get on friendly... you could even say intimate terms with the local police." Jim started on his third donut. "I must say, Jim, that your donut consumption is impressive, yet you don't seem to be carrying a spare ounce."

Jim stood up, brushing his hands. "I burn it off, and I think I'm gonna need a lot of energy. Paperwork's done."

Blair flipped a couple of sheets. "Actually, I'm not quite through."

Jim handed him his jacket. "Yes, you are." He reached over and straightened Dale's tie minutely.

"Yep, I'm done." Blair slipped into the jacket. He knew why Jim was anxious to get home, and said, "Wonderburger, or shall we just order pizza?"

"Burgers okay with you, Coop?" Jim asked.

"Absolutely."

"Good, we can eat in the car on the way home. I want my hands free once we get back to the loft."

*****

Dale cast an appreciative look around the loft as Blair eased the coat off his shoulders. "I must say I'm impressed. You have a lovely home."

"Thank you." Jim grabbed Dale the moment his arms were free and kissed him. Blair leaned against the wall, watching with a small smile.

When he was allowed up for air, Dale gasped, "You're welcome."

Jim had buried his face against Dale's neck and was busily sucking a hickey on his neck. Blair tapped the Sentinel on the shoulder. "Jim? You want the shower, right?"

Jim made a sound against Dale's neck. "What did he say?" Dale yelped. "My, he has sharp teeth!"

"He said 'yes'."

They started to shuffle toward the bathroom. "Jim? It would be easier to walk if you'd let go for a moment."

"Dale, Jim has kicked over into 'fuck animal' mode. He's not letting go till he's dropped at least one load."

"Then why are we going to the bathroom?" They'd entered the bathroom. Jim was stripping Dale, and doing a very good job of it, too, considering that he kept his mouth on some part of the agent's body at all times.

"Because of this." Blair put a hand in Dale's hair and ruffled. It stayed sticking up in a single, massive clump. "How much gel do you use, Coop?"

"Blair, I have to remain neat. I don't have time to run to a mirror every time..."

Dale was naked by now, and Jim started pushing him toward the shower. "Jim! Hang on, man! Lemme get you stripped. Damn, we don't want to have you totally soaked again."

Dale was moaning as Jim stroked his rapidly hardening cock. "I somehow feel that there's a story behind that single word--again."

"Blair..." Jim's voice was thick.

"I'm on it, man, I'm on it, but you're gonna have to let go at least a hand at a time so I can get the
shirt off you." Jim grumbled, but co-operated. At least he must have, because the shirt got removed, but Dale never could figure out how that happened when Jim seemed to be pumping his dick and tweaking his nipples at the same time. Another minute and the pants and shorts were down around Jim's ankles, and he stepped out of them.

"You two have this down to a science, don't you?" Dale seemed a bit stunned, a state Blair thought he didn't achieve all that often.

"Nope--it's an art form." Blair turned on the shower, carefully adjusting the water temperature. "All set, Jim."

"Terrific." Jim backed Dale into the shower, under the spray, and Blair slid the door almost shut. Dale gasped as his hair was soaked. Or rather... "Damn, kid, what did you use on this--deck sealer? You're shedding water like a mallard duck. Shampoo." Jim stuck his hand out of the stall, and Blair squirted a dab of shampoo into his palm. "Close your eyes, cutie," Jim warned.

Dale's voice was a little breathless. "I certainly didn't expect to get a day of beauty when I came
here."

"Just part of the full service treatment," Blair called. "In fact, if you're nice to me, I'll give you
a pedicure before you leave. I'm thinking of taking up a foot fetish."

Blair peeked through the narrow slit and watched as Jim used the lather for reasons that the manufacturer had probably never intended. He'd created a cascade of foam between their bodies, had pressed against Dale, and was now thrusting against him steadily. Blair watched the writhing, pale bodies, and the sleek, dark heads moving as they tried to devour each other's mouths. "Oh, damn, I'd better hurry if I don't want to have to wait."

He stripped quickly, managing to get naked just before Jim called, "Blair! Conditioner."

"I've only got about a fourth of a bottle left, and I'm sorry, Dale, but guest or no guest, you're not
getting it."

"I don't want it for his hair, Darwin," Jim growled. "I need lube, and we used the last tube of Astroglide this morning."

"Oh. Well, then." Blair grabbed the squeeze bottle. "Shift, you guys."

"Blair, we can't all fit in here!" Dale protested.

"We've done it before," Jim assured him. He turned Dale to face the wall, and moved up behind him. "C'mon, Blair, and don't forget to bring the shower caps."

Dale had an image of Jim and Blair wearing tight rubber caps, possibly with bright daisies or yellow duckies on them. The notion was wiped away when Blair handed Jim an unwrapped condom, and both of the policemen 'suited up'. Then Blair stepped into the shower and slid the door the rest of the way shut.

Blair squirted a big glob of conditioner on Jim's fingers, then his own. Jim reached around Dale, who he had pinned against the tile wall, and held his fingers to his nose. "Smell."

Dale sniffed obligingly. "Mm. Rosemary?"

"This should go a way toward explaining why I like to have Blair drape his hair over my face. Now..." He parted Dale's buttocks and probed. Dale squeaked, but it was a happy sound. "Oh, I suppose I should have asked you first--do you want to bottom?"

"A polite guest always joins enthusiastically in whatever entertainments his host provides."

Blair had worked a finger into Jim's ass, and sighed. "God, you're polite, Dale. You make me miss my friend Benny. He's a Mountie, and possibly the most polite person on the face of the earth. Fortunately, he's also one of the sexiest people on the face of the earth, so the continual perfection isn't all that hard to take."

Jim stroked his finger into Dale, murmuring, "He talks an awful lot, doesn't he?" He bit the agent's shoulder. "But believe me, he can do things with that mouth that are even more interesting. He'll show you later. You about ready, Coop?"

"Oh, yes."

"Good. Let's see if you deserve the title 'special' agent." Dale groaned in pleasure as he felt Jim's
thick erection press slowly up inside him. Jim didn't stop moving till he was flush against Dale's back, solidly buried. Dale immediately tried to push back. Jim laughed. "Get mounted up, Blair. Our friend is impatient."

"Hold still, Big Guy, and bend your fucking knees a little. I don't have a stool, you know." Jim flexed to lower his ass a little, and Dale took the opportunity to push back a little more on him. "You hold still! Just be patient."

"If you'll pardon my crudity, Jim--screw patient."

Jim's breath huffed out as Blair thrust into him. Jim apparently believed in 'do as I say, don't do as I do', because he quickly shoved back onto Blair, then surged forward into Dale. "Oh, hell, Dale!" Blair groaned. "I think all we have to do is hang on."

"You'd have to tie me down to keep me from moving," grunted Dale, undulating.

Jim muttered, "That can be arranged," and stepped up the pace.

Dale said, "I never would have thought that fucking a tile wall would prove to be one of the sexiest experiences of my life."

"Sorry." Jim wormed his hands between Dale's body and the wall, closed his hands over the FBI agent's rigid cock, and brought him to completion in a few, quick strokes. Dale yelled.

Blair, still throwing it to Jim, said, "Jesus, are all FBI agents so loud when they come? He reminds me of..."

"Yeah, Blair, but I think Fox has him beat in the during coitus noise." In another minute both Jim and Blair shuddered and filled their rubbers. Then Blair leaned on Jim, Jim leaned on Dale, and Dale reflected that the comfort factor of leaning against a tile wall rose in direct proportion to how recently you had climaxed.

They all dismounted, opened the shower door long enough for the two hosts to flip their used condoms into the wastebasket, then let the warm water sluice them clean.

When they came out of the shower, Jim and Blair jointly dried Cooper, getting done quickly. Jim rubbed some of the agent's dark hair through his fingers, and smiled in pleasure. "Nice and soft."

"I should put the styling gel back in while it's still damp," Dale informed him.

"You can do that tomorrow. I intend to have my hands buried in your hair at some future point, and I'd like to be sure of getting them back out." Jim slapped Dale on the ass and said, "Up to the loft. Blair and I will be up in a minute. We'll hang your suit up in here, and the steam will take the wrinkles out for tomorrow."

As Dale left the bathroom, Blair said, "Why can't I go up with him?"

"Because you're going to the kitchen for the whipped cream."

Blair grinned. "I knew you must have a good reason."

HEY!

Yoooowl Arroooooogh

There was the pounding of feet on the stairs, and Jim and Blair hurried out. A still naked and very
wide-eyed Dale Cooper came skidding down the stairs. He stumbled into the other two men, and they managed to keep him from falling. "Damn, what is it?" Blair asked.

Dale grabbed frantically for the phone. "Animal control! 911! Marlon Perkins! No, fuck Marlon, all he ever did was sit there. Get me Jim, he's the one who wrestled the alligators..."

Jim took the phone away. "Blair, check it out."

"No, wait!" Dale called as Blair started up the stairs. "Let me get my gun, it's in the rental. Or you
get your gun. We're all law enforcement officers, why doesn't at least one of us have a fucking gun ready?"

Blair went far enough up to get a good look at the bed. Two pairs of lambent golden eyes stared back at him calmly--one pair surrounded by gray fur, one pair surrounded by black fur. "You guys!" The wolf definitely grinned--that's a canine thing, after all, but Blair was pretty sure that the jaguar managed a smile, too. "Out of the bed so we can get Dale into it, and do not leave any little presents for us."

Blair came back downstairs. Dale wriggled out of Jim's grip and grabbed him, turning him quickly, then wilted in relief. "You're all right!"

"Um, yeah. Look, Coop, I'm sorry about that."

Dale calmed down a little. "Are you telling me that you and Jim keep exotic pets? While I could understand a parrot or a ferret, perhaps even a raccoon, I think a fully matured black panther and wolf are a bit beyond most city ordinances."

Jim and Blair exchanged looks. Jim shrugged. "Oh, well, we got at least one good screw in." He clapped Dale on the shoulder. "We won't be hurt if you decide to leave after you hear about this."

Blair said, "Y'see, Coop, those aren't your average large predators--they're spirit guides--mine and
Jim's. Somewhere around a hundred years ago, Sir Richard Burton wrote a groundbreaking thesis about Sentinels..."

"Is this going to take a while? If it is, I'm getting rather chilly."

Jim went upstairs, then called, "They've gone. Come on up." A minute later Dale was snuggled in bed between Jim and Blair, and Blair continued his explanation.

"...and once we found our spirit guides, the bond really, really deepened. Now they pop up at odd times without being called upon. Yeah, it was kind of disconcerting at first, and they can be very annoying, but we figure that the times they save our lives outweigh that."

When Blair finished speaking there was silence as the two lovers waited for Dale's reaction. Dale looked deep in thought. Finally he sighed and said, "I suppose that I shouldn't wince at this, seeing as how I occasionally receive prophetic dreams."

"You don't want to run, then?" said Jim hopefully.

"No, no. Now," Cooper smiled at Blair. "Didn't someone say something about whipped cream?"

Blair grinned slyly. "It'll cost ya." Dale lifted an eyebrow. "Rafe's real name."

Dale squinted, as if considering. Finally he said, "Who will be wearing the whipped cream?"

Jim stroked his hip. "All of us."

He sighed. "He'll understand that I can't turn down that sort of a bribe. All right--it's Rafe."

Blair bounced in irritation. "We know that! Which one?"

"Both."

Jim and Blair looked at each other, stunned. A grin slowly crept across each face. Jim said slowly, "Rafe Rafe?"

"His father had a strange sense of humor, and the nurse came to take the name while his mother was still under sedation. I'd appreciate it if you didn't let him know that I was your source."

"He'd retaliate?" Blair asked.

"He'd cut me off."

"The man deserves a reward," Jim declared. "Blair--the Redi-Wip." Blair scampered.

Dale nestled against Jim, sighing happily. "I'm greatly enjoying this interlude, Jim, but I have to
say that I'm looking forward to moving on to Twin Peaks tomorrow." He picked a sleek, long, dark hair off the sheet, flicking it away. "I admit that I'll be happy to get somewhere nice and normal."

The end