When you were one of seven brothers, and smack dab in the middle at that, it wasn’t easy to find the thing that set you apart from the rest. In Spence’s case, he’d found the one thing that no one cared enough to try and share with him: old movies. He had no way of knowing whether or not his interests would have been more conventional if he’d had fewer brothers with whom to compete for the normal fixtures of teenage boyhood, but that also wasn’t a question he needed answered. As peculiar as it was, being the brother with encyclopedic knowledge of movies from the 1930s and ‘40s suited him just fine. Sure beat being the football brother.
Besides, in a weird way, it was always meant to be this way. Not only did his passion for film noir give Spence something that was just his, but it also prepared him for becoming the reincarnate of Dale Cooper, years before the special agent had frankly announced his presence in Spence’s head. Within Twin Peaks, Coop always felt slightly like a man out of time, transplanted from the earnest and romantic world of Laura to the tainted, nightmarish world of Laura Palmer. Knowing all those movies was like studying for a test he didn’t know he’d have to take. He didn’t ace it on the first try – almost no one did – but his familiarity with the inspirations for Cooper got him to where he needed to be quicker than most. It was, as they say, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
All the same, Spence was not exactly capable of talking about his favorite movie with any degree of restraint. He wasn’t pedantic, at least; his enthusiasm was genuine and contagious enough that those caught in the tide of it tended to be left slightly baffled, but never bored. For her part, Eleanor seemed to be neither. The more he babbled about Laura, the less cautious her smile became. He didn’t miss that her troubles abandoned her, at least temporarily, while he talked, and she found a way to talk back. Good ol' Vincent. He never failed to bridge a divide.
But Spence's thoughts drifted away from the subject at hand, not for the first time since meeting Eleanor and, he predicted, not for the last. It’d be nice if he could see that smile again, entirely trouble-free. Be even nicer if he could be the one to make those troubles go away.
Well, Spence, I’d say that’s doable, came Coop’s voice, confident as ever. Now get me a doughnut.
Spence raised an eyebrow, both at Coop’s demand and Eleanor’s mention of crossbows and leather. That certainly narrowed down the possibilities for her reincarnate, but he didn’t pursue it, as tempting as it was to ask. Instead, he took her offered hand and shook it once, simultaneously gentle and firm.
“Thank you for trusting me with it,” he responded, putting his other hand over hers before letting go. There was a short pause – not awkward, exactly, but one that was full of a few different possibilities. Ever the detective, he chose the most practical one instead of the one he preferred and began guiding her toward the door. “I’ll get started right away. Victoria will fill you in on the details of the business end on your way out.”
He paused at the door, just before opening it. He knew he shouldn’t say it, but when had that ever stopped him or Coop before? “I’ll find him, Eleanor. I promise.”