While Sam, Al, Beth, and the picture belong to Donald P. Bellisario (used without permission, no money being made), the story is mine, copyright 1998. The girls' names and calculated ages belong to Gina Geoff from her story "Afterimage", and are used with permission.

Quantum Leap: "Perfect Picture"
by Orianna

Calavicci Residence
Alamogordo, New Mexico
December 12, 1995

Beth stuck her head out of the walk-in closet, her eyes meeting her husband's. "Al, have you seen my--"

"Of course I have, sweetheart," Al replied before she could finish. "But I wouldn't mind if you want to show me again..."

Pretending to be shocked, Beth raised her eyebrows. "Albert Calavicci! What am I going to do with you?"

Al grinned as he stepped up close to her. "Allow me to demonstrate."

Beth let herself enjoy the kiss, but when Al's hands started wandering, she regretfully pulled away. "Sorry, love. We're running late as it is!"

"Darn portrait," Al grumbled. "Remind me why it is we're getting this done?"

"Because the last time we had a family picture taken, Maxine was three, and Theresa still had braces," Beth explained patiently. "People need to know that our family hasn't been frozen in time."

Time...Al rubbed his face, then forced the unhappy thoughts away. Today was supposed to be a fun day; he refused to ruin it by worrying about Sam. Apparently, Beth caught the moment's mood, because she took Al's face in her hands. Smiling sweetly, she placed a kiss on his lips to distract him, then stepped back.

"I still haven't found my necklace."

"All right, you finish getting dressed," Al instructed her, with a hint of reluctance. "I'll find your pearls."

While he searched, Beth pulled her new red dress over her head. The fabric was incredibly soft, being a newly developed blend of silk and a rayon-like material, that swirled around her thighs when she walked. It was shorter than she usually wore, and more expensive than anything she owned, but the expression on Al's face when he saw her in it would be worth it.

"Are you sure Maxine didn't take them?" Al asked, his voice muffled by the half-closed closet door.

Stepping into the shoes that matched her dress, Beth walked out of the closet. "She knows better than that. What do you think?"

"I think I found them," Al answered, pulling a string of pearls out the top dresser drawer. He turned around and whistled. "Ooh, baby. Are you sure we have to do this today? I can think of a dozen different things I'd much rather do...and all of them involve you not being in that dress."

After twenty-eight years of marriage, Beth still blushed at Al's comment. "I'm glad you like it. Would you mind fastening the necklace for me?"

"Not at all," Al smiled. He skillfully draped the pearls around Beth's neck. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Not you, the pearls!" Al quipped.

Beth made a face at him. "You're not ready yet."

"Yes, I am," he replied. "See, pants, shirt, tie, shoes. All ready."

Beth almost laughed. Al's slacks glowed an electric blue, his shirt shimmered an irridescent silver, his tie shined a bright red, and his shoes sparkled gold. "You're not wearing that."

"Why not?" He glanced down at his outfit, trying to figure out why she didn't like it.

Sighing, Beth went back into the closet. A minute later she emerged with a sedate pair of black pants, a white shirt, and a jacket the same shade of red as her dress. "Here, put this on."

Al glared at the clothes. "That is boring!"

"It's called color coordination, something I know you've never heard of," Beth replied sweetly.

"But I'll look just like you," Al protested. "We can't wear the same color."

Crossing her arms, Beth stated, "Put it on, or I'll put it on for you!"

"Promise?" Al grinned lecherously.

Beth threw him a look, then walked over to the bedroom door and opened it. "We're leaving in three minutes," she yelled. Various replies came back, mostly frantic requests for more time, but she stayed firm. "Two-and-a-half minutes, now."

Al slipped into the jacket and turned to Beth with a resolved expression. "Look okay?"

"Very nice," she smiled, straightening the simple bolo tie he'd chosen. "Let's go."

Theresa, the oldest of the four girls at ninteen, was waiting by the front door. Her long-sleeved red dress had been dyed a shade lighter than Beth's. "Come on, guys!" she hollered as soon as she spotted her parents. "Mom and Dad are ready."

Seventeen-year-old Ruthie came out of the bedroom, adjusting the crimson vest that she'd put on over a brown blouse and black leggings. "I'm here," she announced with a smile. "Sharon's still working on her hair, and Maxine is trying to decide which sweater to wear."

"You look good, honey," Al told her, fighting the urge to ruffle her light brown hair. Ruthie had always been "daddy's girl", even up to what branch of physics she studied. This would be her last week at home before starting winter classes at MIT, and Al already missed her.

Beth went over to the second bedroom door. "Maxine, why don't you wear the one with the teddy bears?"

"No, Mom," came the eleven-year-old's muted reply. "It's too small. I want to wear the heart one that Grandma gave me."

"Okay, well, hurry up." Then she added through the door, "Sharon, your hair is fine!"

The door opened and a red-sweatered Maxine ran out to stand by her sisters. Al frowned and looked at Beth. "Sweetheart, we're starting to look like the Brady Bunch. Tell me you didn't plan this!"

"Of course I did," she replied with a smile. "Trust me, it'll look nice in the picture."

"Okay, I'm ready," proclaimed Sharon, finally emerging from the bedroom with her dark brown hair curled to perfection.

"Oh, no, you're not!" Al shook his head. "There's no way you're wearing that in public!"

Sharon looked down at her outfit. The shiny black leather skirt she wore only came halfway to her knees. "But the jacket's red," she pointed out defensively. "And everyone is allowed to wear these at school."

"I don't care!" Al said, trying to keep his voice from growing loud. "You're only fourteen, and you're not going to--" He stopped at Beth's touch on his arm. "What? Beth, it's too short!"

"Honey," Beth convinced him softly.

Al relented with a sigh. "Let's get this over with."

The ride to the portrait studio in Alamogordo only took a few minutes, as their house was just on the edge of town. A short wait, and a huge sitting fee later, they were ready to pose for the camera.

Al sat down with Beth at his side. Sharon moved to stand next to Beth, placing one hand lightly on her mother's shoulder, while Ruthie stood almost behind her father, putting her arm around him. Theresa moved her seat so that she was on Ruthie's other side.

"And you sit right here, Maxine," Beth indicated the floor near her feet. Maxine obediently plopped down, then reached up to hold her mother's hand.

"Good," proclaimed the photographer. "Now, hold still, and think happy thoughts!"

Happy thoughts? Beth squeezed his hand, and Al knew he had plenty to be grateful for...four beautiful girls, and a wife that he was very much in love with. Then he remembered Sam, and how he'd so far been unable to retrieve his best friend from the clutches of Time. Al started to frown, but the thought rose, Someday, Sam's going to come home! and he smiled.