Date: Fri, 12 Jun 1998 15:29:46 -0400 (EDT)
From: Mary Ruth Keller 
Subject: Leap of Fate (1/4) by Adina Ringler


I'm posting this for Adina, for whom the Net has been distinctly
uncooperative. Please send all feedback to her at
aringler@earthlink.net

X*X*X

Title: Leap of Fate (completed May 8, 1998)

Author: Adina Ringler

E-Mail: aringler@earthlink.net

Rating: PG

Category: C, S, H (slight), M/S UST X-Files/Quantum Leap - knowing
Quantum Leap is really not essential, it all gets explained. This, I
guess, would have to be considered a "relationship piece (since there
is a bunch of discussion about it)." Warm fuzzies abound, but there
is some seriousness. The UST is mild to medium. Safe for Shippers and
NoRomos alike. See what you want to see!

Spoilers: X-Files - If I told you, it would give it all away. If
anyone hasn't seen the episodes implied, then that would be an X-File
in itself. Quantum Leap - How the Tess Was Won

Key Words: Mulder/Scully UST, Quantum Leap

Summary: For the life of them, Sam and Al can't figure out what Sam
needs to fix for our intrepid agents. The lesson, however, is that
it's the little things in life that count the most. This is about
friendship and belief.

Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to Ten-Thirteen and Fox
Broadcasting. Sam Beckett, Al Calavicci, and Ziggy belong to
Belisarius Productions and Universal Television. No profit has or
will be made as a result of this fiction. No copyright infringement
is intended.

Archive: Gossamer, please. Anywhere else you'd like, as long as my
name is attached. Just let me know!

Feedback: Would love it! (especially regarding the
characterizations.)

Acknowledgements: I'd love to thank Mary Ruth Keller and Ruth Calkins
for proof and/or beta reading. I'd also like to thank Denise Brophy
for letting Scully "borrow" her argument on the validity of Sam's
String Theory. 

X*X*X

Leap of Fate (Part 1 of 4) 
By Adina Ringler 
aringler@eathlink.net

X*X*X

Vertigo. Webster's defines vertigo as the sensation of dizziness and
the feeling that oneself or one's environment is whirling about. Dr.
Sam Beckett was no stranger to that feeling, more so now that he had
started leaping about in time. As many times as he leaped, he never
got used to it.

, thought Sam
with a sigh.



Ironically, it was with that thought that the "roulette wheel"
stopped. Not abruptly, but fast enough for him to almost remember
what he had eaten for lunch.



Sam opened his eyes slowly, cautiously, to survey his situation.

He found himself standing, alone, just inside the entrance of a
crowded parking lot. A quick survey of the license plates told him he
was on the East Coast: Virginia, Maryland, D.C., Delaware. Most
likely Maryland, if quantity was an indicating factor. There was a
mixture of sun and low clouds, and a bit of a chill in the air. His
feet were slightly cold. He looked down to see tan slacks and his
feet encased in a pair of elegant, but functional black heels.



He looked across to see a faint reflection of himself in a nearby
car window. He eyed the image critically, but not without some
appreciation. Overall he saw a very petite, but well dressed woman. A
tan jacket matched the slacks, and a black silk blouse completed the
outfit. The face that greeted him was attractive. Shoulder-length
auburn hair, full lips. He couldn't make out the eye color, but the
countenance that stared back at him bespoke a quiet strength and keen
intelligence.



He expelled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"That was a pretty heavy sigh, Scully, anything wrong?" a gravelly
voice asked, precariously close to his ear.

Startled, Sam whirled about to find a man standing close, almost
*too* close, behind him. "NO!" he exclaimed in an almost yelp, and
calmed himself before continuing. "Uh... no... , sorry. Just
thinking," he answered in a more normal tone as the first rush of
adrenaline faded. Sam studied the man before him. There was a look of
barely contained glee in the man's hazel eyes, one corner of his
mouth upturned in a lopsided smile. It was almost as if he took pride
in the fact that he had startled him.

The smile grew a little wider. "No kidding, I can hear the wheels
turning from here. Think any harder, Scully, and the gears might
break." Sam frowned, which only seemed to please the man with the
hazel eyes even more. The moment faded, though, and the man's
expression became serious and determined.

"Let's go," he said, "I don't want to let that creep outta my sight
for too long. I know you have your work cut out for you, too. I don't
envy you the task of digging through all that old evidence. I'll drop
you off at home, then get going." Sam could only nod an affirmative
and wait for an epiphany from Al- whenever he cared to show up.

Sam felt the man place a guiding hand on his back as he was led to
what must be their car. A polite, almost reverent gesture, followed
up by the fumbling of the keys and, finally, the opening of the
passenger door for him.



After opening the door, the man stopped to study Sam curiously for a
moment.

"What?" Sam asked, self-conscious under the scrutiny. The man looked
at Sam's pumps and then back into his eyes.

"New shoes?"

"Um...no. Why do you ask?"

"Well, for a few moments there, Scully," he said sheepishly,
"you seemed...I don't know...taller."

X*X*X

They had been on the road for twenty minutes and Sam was grateful
that his companion seemed to be comfortable with the ensuing silence.
 He vaguely remembered being
there before.

Another quarter of an hour went by and Sam was becoming uneasy with
his lack of information. He needed to know who he was and why he was
here *quickly*, in case the silence didn't last. He hated rummaging
through other people's personal belongings, especially a *woman's*
personal belongings; however, since Al had yet to grace him with his
presence, he didn't have much choice. Reluctantly, he opened the
handbag he had been carrying.

Pen...glasses... The only information he really had was his name
- "Scully." Lipstick...mints...  He dug deeper into the purse. Compact...notepad...

The last time he could remember being called by his last name, which
wasn't saying much, was by his basketball coach in high school, and
then again, it wasn't used in a tone of respect...*or* fondness for
that matter. Another pen...cellphone...gun.

<*GUN*!>

But his hand was already onto the next object, a wallet which he
flipped open in haste. He saw the badge and the ID. 

It read "Dana Scully, Special Agent, Federal Bureau of
Investigation."  He cast a furtive
look at the driver of the car, who seemed to be lost in thought and
oblivious to his distress.



It was at that moment that a low wolf whistle emanated from the back
seat of the car. As nonchalantly as possible, Sam turned around under
the guise of retrieving Scully's briefcase from the back seat and
shot Al a withering look. Al's smirk turned into a scowl.

"Geez, Sam, if looks could kill!"

Sam only narrowed his eyes in response. Al took a puff from
his ever-present cigar as the smile returned to his face. He knew he
had the advantage. Sam couldn't make a sound for fear of being
accused of talking to thin air. "Maybe I should have personally
checked out our lovely visitor in the, Waiting Room first, before
coming to check on you. She's a lot prettier." Sam could only turn
away after retrieving the briefcase. Al took pity on his friend, but
not before he shifted his position to annoy Sam further by making it
appear that he was sitting on the hood of the car.

"Okay, Sam. In case you haven't figured it out already, your name is
Dana Scully. Ms., or should I say, Dr. Scully, whose specialty lies
in forensic pathology," he said, looking suitably impressed, "is a
Special Agent with the FBI." He paused for a moment to study the
wildly blinking handlink.

"Wow Sam! You two have a lot in common. Not only is she a doctor,
like you, but she did her undergraduate degree in physics." Al's eyes
widened even further as he told Sam that Agent Scully's senior thesis
was entitled, "Einstein's Twin Paradox- A New Interpretation." Sam
couldn't help but be impressed as well.

When no further information seemed to be forthcoming, Sam looked from
Al to the man sitting next to him and back again.

"Oh! Uh ...*that* is Special Agent Fox Mulder, your...I mean,
Dana's partner. Agent Mulder is an Oxford-educated psychologist who
started out in the Violent Crimes Section of the FBI, where he
distinguished himself as the one of the best profilers the Bureau
ever had. Because of his extraordinary talents, he was given the
nickname, 'Spooky.' Hey! It says here he was the one that did the
profile that helped catch Monty Propps. Even I remember *that*
nozzle," Al added with a shudder. The handlink chirped and blinked to
life again. Al punched a few buttons and read on.

"Agent Mulder left the Violent Crimes section in order to work on
something called the 'X-Files'. It seems that these X-Files are cases
that other divisions didn't want to deal with or couldn't explain,
mostly dealing with unexplained and para...para-" Al frowned and
smacked the handlink, which squealed in protest, "normal uh...
paranormal activity." Sam gave Al an exasperated look.

"You know," he said looking more and more nervous as he read on,
"crop circles, alien abductions, ghosts...vampires." Al shook off a
feeling of dread and continued. "Because of the nature of these cases
and Agent Mulder's belief in the paranormal, many of those who once
thought him the 'wiz-kid' of the Bureau did a one-eighty and blew him
off. He's worked alone, pretty much, ever since. That is, until Agent
Scully came along."

Both Al and Sam silently regarded Agent Mulder, who, at that moment,
was doing some fancy maneuvering in order to get around rush hour
traffic. It was a few seconds before Al spoke again.

"Anyway, Agent Scully was teaching at Quantico when she was assigned
as Agent Mulder's partner." Al stared at the handlink incredulously.
"Ziggy's not sure, but she seems to think that Agent Scully was
originally selected because of her staunchly scientific background
and assigned to Agent Mulder in order to spy on him, report back to
the Bureau big-wigs, and undermine his work."

Somehow, Sam couldn't believe that. His gut feeling said that it
couldn't be true. Al correctly interpreted Sam's reaction. "I don't
think she's a spy either, Sam. If these statistics are correct, the
case solution rate for X-File cases jumped to a more than
respectable, if not phenomenal, 75% since they have been together.
And, if she was there just to undermine his work and get him axed,
she'd be long gone by now."

Al was no slouch when it came to gut reactions either. "Sam, I can't
help but think that Agent Mulder must be on to something those Bureau
big-wigs don't want anyone to know. Why else would they even attempt
to have another agent spy on him?" Sam gave an almost imperceptible
shrug.

 Sam looked beseechingly to Al, who
squirmed. Sam closed his eyes.

 He opened his eyes and stared at Al, hard.

"Sam, I know you want to know why you're here, but Ziggy's got
nada ...zippo, zilch. It could be because many of the cases these two
work on, including this one, are still classified!" he said,
dramatically throwing his hands up into the air. It was then Mulder
pulled up to the curb and stopped the car. Sam could see that they
were parked in front of a very respectable apartment building.

"Okay, Scully, check back with me as soon as you find anything,"
Mulder said eyeing the cellphone he had placed on the dashboard at
the beginning of the commute.

"I will, Mulder." Sam made a move to get out of the car, but Mulder
stopped him, gently laying his hand on his arm "Scully," Mulder said,
repentant, as he looked down, "I know you went through a lot this
morning and I know my actions didn't help any...but we'll get to the
bottom of this." Mulder looked up and made eye-contact. "We'll solve
it. One way or another," he finished. Sam could swear the air
crackled between them. Mulder's gaze was determined...but it seemed
to him that there was more to his gaze than professional
determination. Sam nodded and smiled shyly. It was the only thing he
could do to cover the rising panic stemming from lack
of information... and Mulder's intensity. He shook the feeling off.

"I know, Mulder. We will." Sam's answer hung between them for a
few moments. Mulder took his hand off his partner's arm and smiled
that same lopsided half-smile Sam saw earlier, then looked away. Sam
turned his attention back to Al. Mulder wasn't the only one to corner
the market in intensity.

"Okay! Okay!" Al said defensively, "Maybe I can go back and help
Ziggy dig something up." All of a sudden, Al's face lit up in a truly
lecherous fashion. "Better yet! Maybe the lovely Agent Scully can
shed some light on the subject."

On that note, Al stood up, punched a few buttons on the handlink,
and practically ran through the Imaging Chamber door. Sam sighed and
got out of the car, promising Mulder once again he would call when he
found "anything."

While Mulder drove off, Sam straightened his suit as gracefully as
he could, and took his first tentative steps toward Agent Scully's
apartment. He would have to look over the case file which he had
spied earlier in Agent Scully's briefcase and drive back out to
Maryland in the morning. His thoughts turned to Al and Agent Scully,
who had taken his place in the future.



Amusement turned to pity, and he shook his head. "Poor Agent Scully,"
he said, not realizing he had spoken aloud. He had yet to meet a
woman who could deter Al from something he wanted.

X*X*X

February 24, 2001 
Project Quantum Leap 
Stallion's Gate, New Mexico

Dana Scully was dreaming. As often as not in dreams, things made
little sense. This one made less sense than others. She knew she was
dreaming because somehow she knew she was waking up and time seemed
to be all jumbled. She was with her father, but it was as she knew
him as a little girl. She was curled up in his arms in the oversized
armchair in her father's study and he was reading to her. She saw her
mother pass by, but that was strange, too. Her mother seemed much
older than her father. As other family members passed, she noticed
their ages were out of sorts as well. The other disturbing thing was,
she couldn't remember their names. Interspersed with family images,
in no particular order, were memories from Med. School, the Academy
and some cases she and her partner had recently worked on.

She saw that her family was getting ready for bed and shutting off
many of the lights. It was then she saw them. The little green swarm
was seeping in through an open window. She struggled in her father's
arms. She was trying to tell him to run, to turn the lights back on,
but he didn't understand. "No!" she yelled, coming fully awake and
bolting upright.

"It was a dream," she said out loud. The sound of her own voice
comforted her. That comfort slipped away quickly, however. She felt
disoriented, and that feeling grew as she looked around. She wasn't
in her bedroom.



She was sitting upright on what looked like a high-tech hospital
bed. Willing herself to take a deep breath and not to panic, she
quickly surveyed the rest of her surroundings. The room and its
Spartan furnishings were almost all white. No paintings, mirrors, no
"anything" adorned the walls. She surveyed herself, checking for
broken bones, bruises, or any sign of a struggle on her part. There
was no indication of anything out of the ordinary. She did notice,
however, that the clothes she was wearing were not her own. She was
wearing some sort of skin-tight leotard. This, too, was white.



She fought off a wave of dizziness as she slid off the bed in order
to evaluate what seemed to be the one and only door. She ran her
hands over its seams. No lock, but no doorhandle either. No way to
open it from the inside.



She stepped back from the door. Dread shot through her as
"kidnapping" seemed to be the only possibility.

She started making a mental list of possibilities, neatly
categorizing them as they flew through her mind. How to get out? What
could she use as a weapon against her captors? The list went on.

What plagued her, though, was the question of what *they* could want
from *her*? Who were *they*? Of course, she did work for the FBI. She
had seen some things that were classified. Highly classified. She
even knew things that were supposed to remain covered up. She'd even
seen evidence destroyed. Could it be her own government doing this?

.

Mulder! A new wave of panic engulfed her. If she was here, where was
he? Was he all right? Was he looking for her? He had to be, if he was
all right and not a captive. She tried to push down those thoughts in
order to concentrate on the matter at hand. After all, she had to
think of a way to get out herself, even if Mulder was leading the
"cavalry" for a possible rescue.

A quarter of an hour passed, and she was still pondering that one. A
new, fear insinuated itself at the top of her list. She did as best
she could to steel her mind against the thought of what would happen
when that door did open, and what type of thug would be sent to
interrogate her. She had confidence in her ability to defend herself,
but she was a realist. How long could she hold out without a weapon
against even *one* 6 foot 5 muscle-bound MIB?

It was that thought that was Scully's undoing. For when the door
opened moments later, she was stunned into paralysis. The only
movement she was aware of on her part was her jaw falling open
against her will.

The man who had casually strolled through the doorway was not a 6
foot 5 MIB.

He stopped short as the door slid closed behind him and gaped at
Scully, who was busy scrutinizing him. Obviously, he hadn't expected
her to be in a conscious state.

He was a slight man, barely taller than she was, with short wavy
brown hair, silvering at the temples. She determined his age to be
around 50-ish.



His clothes cut a riotous swath of color against the background of
the stark, white room. The edges of the lapels of his deep lavender
suit were cut into geometric shapes and tipped with silver. His
mandarin-collared shirt was fire-engine red, and his vest was a
swirling mass of black and white paisley. A pair of black Nike
hightops completed the outfit. *If* one could call it an outfit.

As if his clothes weren't enough to stun her, he was carrying a tray
with a teapot and two teacups, sugar and creamer.

Once Al got over the initial shock of finding Agent Scully awake and
alert before he got there, a small smile formed on his lips at her
frank appraisal.

"Like the duds?" he asked, not waiting for her to answer. "I got them
on Rodeo Drive. The last time I got to take a trip to Beverly Hills,
that is." He set the tray down on the room's only table and stood
next to one of the two seats. Scully's eyes narrowed, but she didn't
say anything. "Tea?" he asked, gesturing to the pot and the chair
next to him, "I would have brought breakfast, but I wasn't sure if
you would want anything heavier." Scully was beginning to wonder if
she was still, in fact, asleep.



"Agent Scully, I don't bite. Really, I don't." he stated sincerely.
He couldn't help himself, however, and gave her his best leer,
"Unless of course, you wanted me to."

The remark and the way in which was delivered reminded her of Mulder.
With that thought, her faculties snapped back into place. Her
paralysis gone, she scowled and advanced on him, snapping into full
FBI-mode.

"How do you know my name? Who are you and why am I here? And, for
that matter, where is Agent Mulder?!"

Al almost sighed as his smile deepened. She went from calm, cool
and collected to an intimidating spitfire in less time than it took
his cherry-red Lamborghini to get from zero to sixty.



Mentally shaking himself from *that* train of thought, he tried to
get down to business. He cleared his throat. "Agent Scully. If you
would just calm down, I will try to answer your questions as best as
I can. I can't tell you everything, and I don't think you'll like
some of the answers I *can* give you, but I'll do the best that I
can." He pulled the chair out for her to sit. She stared at the chair
for a moment.

She still didn't like any of this; however, she didn't feel she was
in any immediate danger from the man. And he was willing to answer
her questions.



Whether or not she got the truth was another matter. She was tired,
still a little disoriented, and hungry. She finally had to admit to
herself that she was more than a little scared, but she had to start
somewhere if she was going to get out of this place. She eyed him
wearily and took the offered seat. She waited patiently for him to
pour himself a cup of tea and declined when he, again, offered some
to her. She wasn't quite ready to trust the man that far...yet.

"Agent Scully, I'll start from the beginning. I don't know how much
of this you will believe. I assure you, however, that it is all true,
and that you will come to no harm here."

"Believe you?" she said, almost rhetorically. 

He even had the same look in his eye as Mulder had when he was about
to reel off one of his more outlandish theories. Little warning bells
went off in the back of her mind. "And Mulder? Where's Mulder?!"

"Your partner is fine. At least for now."

The statement raised the hackles on the back of her neck. "What do
you mean, 'for now'?" she said, the fire igniting behind her eyes
once more.

"Uh, I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Agent Scully. Really. Sam
is keeping an eye on him."

"Sam? Sam who? And for that matter, who the hell are you?!"

"Al. Admiral Albert Calavicci, United States Navy," he said,
extending his hand, "at your service." He was dismayed when she
wouldn't shake his hand.

Scully shook her head. 
"I'm sorry, Mr. Calavicci. But no Admiral I have ever seen dresses
like that."

"Like what?!" Al said with a look that was haughty as well as hurt.
"I'll have you know that this suit was-"

"Yes...so you said. From a designer in Beverly Hills."

Al sighed. He was getting nowhere. "Are you through picking apart
my wardrobe, young lady?" Al said in his best "military-man" voice.
Being the daughter of a naval captain, she found herself answering
almost automatically, "Yes, sir." She studied him once more. He did
have a military air about him. Well, when he wanted to, it seemed.

Al, smiled and saw a possible opening. "Military brat?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir. My father was in the Navy."

"Yeah?" Al asked.

Dana's thoughts wafted back to her earlier dream and answered, a
little melancholy seeping into her voice along with the pride.
"Captain William Scully." Dana noticed a hint of recognition in Al's
face. "You knew him?"

"I knew of him. By reputation. I never met him, but I heard he was a
fine officer."

Dana smiled.



Dana's smile wavered a bit. "He passed away not too long ago," she
stated simply. Dana didn't know why she blurted that out. She
shouldn't be giving this man any extraneous information.

"I'm truly sorry," Al said sincerely.

"Thank you, sir."

"Al, please. Not 'Sir.' I'm trying not to remember I'm old enough to
be your father," he said with a smile.

Dana blushed but didn't look away, the corners of her mouth turning
up into a small smile in spite of herself.

Al figured now that he had an opening, he'd better get to
explaining."Agent Scully, while I am a naval officer, at the moment
I'm not working in that capacity. I'm actually working on a Top
Secret government project."

"I knew the government would be involved, somehow," she muttered.

Al could see her suspicion rising once again, and countered,
"Actually, the government is not high on my list right now, since it
is always trying to shut us down by cutting off our funding."

"What is this secret project, or can't you tell me?" Scully asked.

"Oh, I can tell you, Agent Scully, but I have the feeling you may
not believe what the project entails."

"And that is?" she asked, waving her hands in front of her.

"The project is called Quantum Leap. This building is part of
our headquarters."

"Quantum Leap...and what does this project actually do?"

Al smiled, "Project Quantum Leap deals with time travel."

Scully closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between her
thumb and forefinger.

 "Right." she sighed, not taking him seriously.
Arching an eyebrow, she repeated, "Time travel?"

"Time travel, Agent Scully,"

Scully took a deep breath. "Are you saying that the United
States government is funding your time travel experiment?" she
asked incredulously.

"Not *my* time travel experiment, Dr. Sam Beckett's time travel
experiment."

She recognized that name. "Sam Beckett? The Nobel prize winning
physicist?"

"The one and only," Al said with no small amount of pride. 

"And where is the brilliant Dr. Beckett?"

 "Uh...he's leaping around through time," Al
said sheepishly, his confidence faltering further with his next
words. "Actually, it's a little more complicated than just simple
'time travel.'"

"I'm sure it is," Scully said in a monotone voice and tried to
suppress a smirk.

Al tried to bolster himself and continued, "Well, you see...he can
only "leap" within his own lifetime. And so far, only back in time.
Uh...that is back in time from our 'now.'"

"Back in time?"

"Uh...yeah."

"I see."

"You do?" Al asked hopefully.

"Not really. My comment was more rhetorical in nature."

She seemed to be waiting for more, so Al continued. "When he leaps,
he leaps into another person's life in the past, the person he leaps
into comes here, into the future." Scully's jaw dropped once again.
She had not thought it possible, but this was even more cracked than
one of Mulder's insane theories! She just stared at Al.

"I told you it would be hard to believe, Agent Scully."

"No kidding," she answered sarcastically.

"So, Dr. Beckett is now in the past."

Scully didn't believe him, and got the distinct feeling he was
still holding out on her. "And?" she asked.

"And...," Al said, "like I said earlier, he's with your partner."

"He's with Mulder?" she asked.

"Yes," Al answered and looked at her expectantly, as if this fact
was supposed to be akin to some sort of revelation. A split-second
later, dawn broke, and the usually unflappable Agent Scully turned
green.

"And if Dr. Beckett is with Mulder and I'm here, that means-"

"Welcome to the future, Agent Scully." Al beamed happily.

X*X*X

Aside from the heels, Sam thought he was doing okay. Well, as okay as
he could be without knowing what he was supposed to do. Once he had
gotten settled in Agent Scully's apartment, he was able to read
through the case file.



If Agent Scully thought all of this was possible after all that Al
had said about her skepticism, Sam couldn't help but believe it. And
it was frightening. She was one brave woman. Realizing that he had
just been sitting there, gaping, he wiped his hand across his face as
if to banish the headache that had developed.



Between the case file, Agent Mulder's instructions, and Scully's
notes, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he needed
to do next.

In the morning, he was able to dress reasonably well, all
things considered, and find Agent Scully's car. Map in hand, Sam
started the car and headed off to his first destination to talk to a
man who had helped the agents before. He could at least get started,
since he knew from reading the case file, what the agents needed.
Still, a little information from Al wouldn't hurt.

Al hadn't checked in with him since their first encounter after he
leaped in. San hoped he wasn't pestering Agent Scully too much.
Remembering what he read in the case file, he revised his opinion.



X*X*X

END - Leap of Fate - Part 1 of 4

X*X*X


Leap of Fate (Part 2 of 4) 
By Adina Ringler 
aringler@eathlink.net
Disclaimer, etc. in Part 1

X*X*X

February 24, 2001 
Project Quantum Leap 
Stallion's Gate New Mexico

Scully gaped for a full five seconds before she was able to regain
her composure-- and some semblance of her logic. Al was still beaming
as he watched the emotions play across the agent's face. He almost
laughed. He had seen the same emotions play across Sam's face when
trying to solve a particularly perplexing puzzle. 

Al's smile faded. 

"Admiral-"

"Al...just Al, Agent Scully."

"Al, you really expect me to believe I'm in the future?!"

"Yes... yes, I do."

"Oh, so what year is it? 2064? 2791? 3010?" she asked with no little
sarcasm.

"No, Agent Scully, it's only 2001," Al said solemnly.

"Oh, gee, that makes me feel a whole lot better," she retorted.
"What you're suggesting is impossible."

"Time travel, impossible? You're here, aren't you?"

"You're under the assumption that I believe you, and I don't."

 "I can prove it."

Scully braced herself by reaching for a tea cup. Al smiled and poured
it for her, waiting for her to get settled before he continued.

"Well, Sam could explain this better than I ever could."

"I'm sure you'll give it your best shot."

Al took a deep breath. "Uh...Sam believed that time travel was not
only a possibility, but could become a reality based on his theory of
time. It took a lot of convincing, but the government decided to give
us the funding to build the project and to set up and test Sam's time
travel theory. So, Project Quantum Leap was born. I was amazed that
the government would part with its precious money since they shut
down the project both Sam and I had been a part of earlier. Still, we
weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The funding has been
a constant see-saw with the senate sub-committees ever since. We have
had to fight almost every year to convince those yo-yos on the Hill
not to pull the plug on us. It's because of those same yo-yos we're
in a bit of a mess right now."

"Mess?"

"Well, yeah, sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?"

Al cleared his throat. "The experiment went a little ca-ca."

"A little ca-ca?" she asked incredulously.

Al felt a very strange sense of deja vu. "Yeah, well," Al said a
little self-consciously, "we were extremely close to finishing the
final preparations in order to test Quantum Leap, but the government
threatened to cut off our funding unless Sam could prove his theory.
So, unbeknownst to the rest of us, Sam stepped into the Quantum Leap
Accelerator without finishing the preliminary tests. He's been
*leaping* about in time ever since."

Scully nodded and contemplated her tea for a moment. This part of the
story she could accept. As a scientist, doctor and federal agent,
there had been plenty of times when her excitement had almost gotten
the better of her while trying to prove a difficult
theory...*almost.* And what she had been learning of her government
lately, well... 

"And what exactly is Dr. Beckett's theory?"

Al's excitement returned. "I knew you were going to ask that," he
said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a string. "The String
Theory. All right. One end of this string represents your birth, the
other your death. You tie the ends together and your life is a loop.
Ball the loop, and the days of your life touch each other out of
sequence. Therefore, leaping from one point of the string to
another-"

"Moves you backward or forward within your own lifetime," Scully
finished.

"Right!" Al exclaimed.

Dana mulled it over. The theory *did* make sense in a strange sort of
way, but it still bordered on the "fantastic." It was going to take a
little more thought *and* a lot more information. "So, assuming for
the moment that this is true, the experiment worked; however, you
mentioned a problem."

"We haven't been able to retrieve Sam. We've been trying ever since
that first leap." Al got up and began to pace.

"Why?" Dana asked.

"That's the hard part. We don't know why, but we have a theory." Dana
gave Al a nod of encouragement. "It's like this, Agent Scully. We
should have been able to bring Sam back. But it seems that some
force, call it God, Fate, Time, or Whatever, was waiting for Sam to
start his experiment in order to correct a mistake in time. We
thought that it was a one-shot deal. But it seems that it's not. I
mean, he's been leaping from life to life for a while now, putting
right what once went wrong. Each time he does it, we hope that it
will be the last, and that Sam will be returned to the
present ...er...my present... uh...this present."

Dana's left eyebrow had been beating a hasty retreat up her forehead
for a few moments now. "That's possibly the most absurd thing I have
ever heard," she blandly stated.

"Well, Agent Scully, in the beginning I thought it was a load of
crap, too. However, it's the only truth I have, since this is the way
that it's been working for almost five years now. Come on, Agent
Scully. From what I understand, you and your partner, Agent Mulder,
investigate some pretty way-out stuff. You have helped prove the
reality of some of those way-out things. Is this any more
unbelievable than some of your cases?"

Scully regarded Al with a little concern. "How much do you know about
our cases?"

"Not much...yet. It seems a lot of your work is classified. We are
working on getting some information."

Scully was reeling. Some of this was almost on the verge of making
sense.



"Okay... All right. Assuming that I believe you, and the jury is
still out on that one, I have three questions. First, if this is Top
Secret, why are you telling me this? If your theories are correct and
Dr. Beckett is in my place, what is he there to put right?"

"To answer your first question, I'm telling you because you won't
remember any of it when you leap back. Well, most of this, anyway.
Leaping tends to "Swiss cheese" one's memory. As a matter of fact,
you're one of the most lucid people we have ever had in the Waiting
Room."

"Waiting Room?"

"That's what we call this place. Where the person Sam leaps into
comes to wait out the ride. In fact," Al said rolling back and forth
on the balls of his feet, "many of the people Sam leaps into think
that they have been abducted by aliens. Ain't that a kick in the
butt?"

"That's just great." Dana said, "Mulder would have a field day if I
came back spouting claims of alien abduction."

Al smiled. "To answer your second question, I don't yet know what Sam
is supposed to fix. Like I said, I'm still waiting for some
information."

"What is Dr. Beckett doing now and how could he be mistaken for me?
For that matter, where do you fit into all of this?" Dana thought she
had him on this one.

"Ah. I was wondering when you would get around to that. This is where
it gets a little complicated."

"And the rest of this is not 'complicated'?"

"Relatively speaking, no pun intended, no. It's not."

Dana could only shake her head. Despite the improbability of
the information Al was bandying about, she liked him. Not that she
could figure out why. She didn't trust him. Her trust was reserved
for Mulder. But she liked him.

Once again, Al took a seat opposite her. "What is Sam doing now?
Hopefully doing what you were about to do when you leaped out. And,
probably, calling me every name in the book wondering why I don't
have any information for him yet. Any ideas on what he should be
doing right now?"

Dana opened her mouth to reply and after a few seconds, shut it.
She couldn't remember.

"Thought not. It may come back soon. It's that good old Swiss
cheese effect. Anyway, he isn't being mistaken for you, he looks like
you to everyone around him."

"How's that possible?"

"Everyone around him sees your 'aura,' so it's not a problem. He can
see the aura of the person he leaps into when he looks in a mirror.
As for me, I can see through the aura when I want to."

"Oh?"

"Yup. You see, I'm the project 'Observer'. I step into something
called the Imaging Chamber and see what Sam sees in the form of a
hologram. When I'm in the Imaging Chamber, he sees me in the form of
a hologram. No one else can see me. I feed him the information he
needs and help him correct what ever needs to be fixed."

Al could see that Agent Scully's "skept-o-meter" was on the rise
again. "It's something Sam perfected. He's a medical doctor as well,
you know. A neurological hologram is controlled by a sub-atomic
agitation of carbon quarks tuned into the optic and otic neurons and
mesons. In this case, Sam's and my optic and otic neurons and mesons.
You could say, Agent Scully, that Sam and I are on the same
wavelength." Al smiled devilishly.

Amazingly enough, Scully found herself smiling again. She didn't have
the heart to correct his little joke even though mesons and neurons
had nothing to do with wavelengths. At least in the capacity he was
talking about. Instead, she voiced her opinion, "Al, that is the most
improbable part of Dr. Beckett's entire theory."

Al's smile did not fade this time, however. "Ah, but my lovely
Agent Scully, it's the part of the theory that I *can* prove to you."
The tone and delivery of that last statement sounded so much like
Frohike, she had to blink; however, coming from Al, she didn't feel
the need to wash her hands.

"Okay, prove it."

Al carefully removed the teapot creamer and sugar bowl from the tray
he had brought in, and lifted the tray so Dana could see her
reflection. "Oh, boy!" Dana breathed. Her jaw was heading southward
again. It was quickly becoming a habit for her, and that was
something she didn't like.

She quickly checked her reaction and studied the face staring back at
her. Soft brown hair with a little streak of gray hanging down
over his...uh...her forehead. Warm hazel-green eyes, not unlike
Mulder's, yet very different than Mulder's. Large nose, but not
overly large for his face. Soft, full lips. Not what one would call a
classically handsome man, but handsome nonetheless. She touched her
cheek to see what would happen. The reflection showed the man
touching his cheek. Her stunned expression changed to curiosity, as
did the man's in the reflection. She looked into the her/his eyes and
sighed.

Al couldn't hide his own amusement. "It's those puppy dog eyes. Gets
'em every time."

Dana blushed and looked away. Al gave her a few moments to regain
her composure. As much as he was enjoying this, he had the feeling
that Dana Scully didn't like being out of her element. She was out of
it here, but Al had accomplished part of his job. The part to make
Dana Scully, skeptic, believe that *this* was possible. Even only
knowing her for a short period of time, he felt that this was a
tremendous accomplishment. Al allowed himself to gloat a bit to
himself.



Once confronted with proof, Dana Scully, scientist, had to believe.
Well at least part of it. She didn't understand all of it, but she
was beginning to believe.

"Okay Al," she said in her best 'back-to-business mode,' "I'm
starting to believe you." Al looked pleased with himself. Entirely
too pleased. "To a point," she added. "Some of this is still not
quite right to me. And that brings me back to my third question."

"Which is?" Al asked with some trepidation.

"Well, I understand Dr. Beckett's String Theory, but there is one
nagging point that I don't understand."

"And that would be?"

"Well, you stated that one end of the string represents one's birth
and the other end represents one's death. I get that. I also
understand that balling up the string would have the days of one's
life touching each other out of sequence."

"And?"

"Well, what I don't get is how in the hell one ties the ends of the
string together. I mean, come on, how do you tie your birth and death
together to make a loop?!" Scully asked indignantly.

Al opened his mouth to answer and found that he had none. That was
the one part he had trouble with, too. Agent Scully was looking at
him, the intellect behind her eyes firing full throttle. All he could
do was groan and put his head down on the table.

So much for the victory dance.

X*X*X

Sam still had no idea what he was there to do. That didn't mean,
however, that he wasn't making progress on the case. As a matter of
fact, he thought he was doing quite well.

He had gone to interview Agents Mulder and Scully's former contact.
At first, Sam wasn't sure if the guy could help; after reviewing the
evidence and exhausting the most plausible possibilities, all that
was left were hunches. So, they traipsed off on a hunch. Sam wasn't
totally comfortable with that.



It took a little elbow grease to get the equipment he needed to
further the investigation, but the hunches and hard work paid off.
They had found a body. Under the circumstances, there was no way he
was going to do the autopsy, so he sent the remains off to someone
who could.

He checked in with Agent Mulder and advised him of his progress.
Mulder seemed pleased, but he could sense the agent's restlessness.
It was almost as if the cell phone transmitted the man's jumpiness
along with his words. Sam sighed. It might have had something to do
with the fact that all was "status quo" on Agent Mulder's end.
Waiting was always the hardest part of any project.

Now, he was on his way back to Agent Scully's apartment.

.

Once there, Sam frowned in frustration. He had been able to function
so far, but luck always seemed to run out at the darndest times. It
was always best to back up luck with some cold, hard facts. "Come on
Al," he said out loud. "Quit trying to make a good impression on the
lady and get me the information I need."

X*X*X

Al had quit trying to impress Agent Scully approximately forty
minutes ago. That was when his victory dance had turned into a walk
across hot coals. Now he was fighting what seemed to be the biggest
intellectual battle of all time. At least, as far as he was
concerned.

It didn't take too long for Agent Scully to find high ground and fire
off a barrage of questions about Quantum Leap. He knew that she
believed at least part of what he was saying. She made some good
points and he gained even more respect for the mind behind the pretty
face, but he was tired. And frankly, he didn't have all the answers.
Even *Sam* didn't have all the answers. The image of Sam and Agent
Scully arguing quantum physics firmly entrenched itself in his mind.
He'd pay money to see that. He thought Sam could out-think anyone.
Now he wasn't so sure. It was time to take another tack. He grinned
and sighed.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. Nothing, really. Agent Scully, you've asked good questions
and as you can see, I don't have all the answers. And as much as I'm
enjoying our discussion, let me throw all my remaining cards on the
table."

"The bottom line, Agent Scully? Quantum Leap works. I don't know all
the whys and wherefores. There are some holes in the theory, I know,
but it works. You're here, and Sam's in the past to try and put
something right."

He paused to search for the precise words, then leaned closer to
the skeptical agent. "The closest I can come, or anyone can come to
the truth of the matter, is that it's a blend between science and
faith. Surely you have taken things on faith before?"

To that statement, Scully didn't have a counterpoint. Of course, she
had taken many things on faith. She just wasn't used to applying
faith to scientific theories.


Scully let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

Al could see that he had made some sort of impression. He
smiled encouragingly. Scully conceded partial defeat. "I suppose I
can make this 'leap' in logic for the moment. God only knows," she
said, standing up and stretching, "Mulder does it often enough.
However, if you tell him I said that, I will deny it."

Al smiled. "Don't worry, unless Sam leaps into your partner at some
point, I'll never get the chance."

Scully sat down and fidgeted, thinking about Dr. Beckett. Al gave her
an inquiring look, at which she sighed, putting her hands on the
table.

"Here I am, arguing with the physics of a Nobel Prize winner."

Al took hold of her hands and squeezed gently. "I couldn't think of
anyone better to do it," he said sincerely.

The moment was broken as an ungodly series of chirps, whistles, and
squeals erupted from somewhere on Al's person.

Scully was quickly becoming accustomed to the strangeness that went
on in the place. "Your pants are squealing." she deadpanned.

Al pulled the handlink out of his pocket and dumped it on the
table. "Ziggy!" he called out in a huff. The only reply was another
series of chirps and squeaks.

"Come on, Ziggy!"

"Who is Ziggy?" Scully broke in.

"Ziggy is the parallel hybrid computer that Sam built to run Quantum
Leap. She gets temperamental from time to time." That remark only
intensified the noise.

"She? *She* gets temperamental?" Scully said, trying not to raise her
voice.

"Come on, Ziggy!" Al yelled. The chirps and squeals stopped.

"Admiral, you don't have to insult me!" came a low and positively
female voice from out of nowhere.

Scully looked around, but no one had entered the room.

"I didn't insult you," Al stated.

"But you did, Admiral! I am much more qualified than Dana to argue
Dr. Beckett's theories!"

 Al
squashed that thought immediately. Uttering it would not get any of
them any closer to their goal anytime soon.

Al looked to Scully for sympathy, but she was clearly at a loss.

"Okay, Ziggy, I agree. You could argue physics with Sam," he said,
looking up at nothing in particular.

Scully was reeling. Was he really talking to a computer, and
a temperamental "female" one at that?

Al looked at Scully again and rolled his eyes.

Ziggy was not finished, however. "I believe you stated that you
couldn't think of anyone better than *Dana.*"

Al sighed, "Okay, Ziggy. Let me amend that, then. I couldn't think
of anyone better to argue physics with Sam, who isn't a computer."

There was a pause. Scully got the distinct impression that the
"voice" was thinking it over.

"Apology accepted, Admiral."

Al was relieved, but still annoyed. "Fine, Ziggy. Did anyone ever
tell you that it is not polite to eavesdrop?"

"Well," Ziggy said petulantly, "I didn't mean to. Not really. I
thought you would want the information I have been able to compile,
so far, on Dana's cases."

"Great!" Al exclaimed, retrieving the handlink. "I'm going to get
this information to Sam." He looked at Scully, who was still trying
to figure out what was going on. She was uncomfortable with someone
having information on the X-Files, information that she didn't have
at the moment herself.

"When I'm good, I'm good. When I'm bad, I'm better...." Ziggy
intoned seductively.

Al ignored Ziggy's comment and continued on, "Ziggy, why don't you
keep Agent Scully company while I'm gone?"

"That is a positively wonderful idea!" Ziggy exclaimed pleasantly.
"Dana and I have much to discuss."

"We do?" Scully asked, still trying to discern where exactly and to
whom she should be directing her comments.

"Oh, Dana. Of course we do!" Ziggy said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Scully raised an eyebrow.

"I want you to tell me all about Fox, my dear. He's *almost* as
delectable a morsel as Dr. Beckett!"

Al waved goodbye and was out the door as Scully blushed furiously.

It was eerie, but she thought she could hear the computer actually
*purr*!

X*X*X

END - Leap of Fate - Part 2 of 4

X*X*X


Leap of Fate (Part 3 of 4) 
By Adina Ringler 
aringler@earthlink.net
Disclaimer, etc. in Part 1

X*X*X

Scully's Apartment

By now, Sam was chomping at the bit to fix whatever needed fixing;
however, he did allow himself one luxury. Well, a couple, really.
Agent Scully's bathtub was a must. He had noticed it the night
before. Tonight, he decided that a nice long soak (minus the bath
oils, of course) was what he needed to order his thoughts and stem
his rising frustration that Al had yet to appear with anything
useful. He had grabbed a bite to eat on the way to Scully's
apartment, but he was still hungry. Rummaging around in the cupboard,
he found some microwave popcorn, the sight of which made him smile.



He was just about to dig into his treat when Al appeared.

"Nice of you to show up, pal." Sam said, cleaning up a few pieces
of popcorn that landed in his lap.

Al didn't answer right away he was still studying the handlink.
"Sorry, Sam. It took a while for Ziggy to get the information. And
this is still background information. She still hasn't a clue what
you are here to do."

"Al, what took so long?"

"Sam, this stuff is highly classified and from what I can see here,
many of Ziggy's attempts to get the information were blocked,
seemingly from someone very high up the food-chain. She's now looking
into ...uh...getting the information through 'unofficial channels.'"

"You couldn't get background information from Agent Scully?" Sam
asked.

"Er...no," Al said, smirking, "She was too busy poking all sorts of
holes in your time travel theories."

Sam frowned.

Al continued, "I think I know how her partner must feel sometimes.
Anyway, once Ziggy got at a least a reasonable amount of information,
I rushed right here. I figured Ziggy would keep Agent Scully company
while I was gone."

Sam was still thinking about what Al had said about Agent
Scully's acceptance, or non-acceptance, of his theories, "Yeah...I
guess they would have a lot to discuss if she is skeptical about time
travel."

"I'm not so sure, Sam." Al leered. "When I left, Ziggy was
interrogating Agent Scully on Agent Mulder's *assets*."

"That's just great," Sam said, clearly exasperated. But that brought
him to another question. "Al, what exactly is the nature of these
guys' relationship anyway? I mean you said that Agent Mulder was
known for his prowess as a profiler, and I realize that he's a very
intense person, but God, Al. Sometimes when he looks at me ...it
seems like he's starving, and I'm lunch." Al chortled in response,
enjoying Sam's discomfort.

"Al! I didn't mean it like that. Well, not exactly. Why do you always
have to turn things like this into something dirty?"

"Sam! You know that is not true!" Al said, almost pouting. "Well,
not *always*, at any rate."

Sam's countenance softened a bit. "What I mean is, 'lunch' aside,
that there is more to it. It's obvious there's respect there...and
affection, if I had to put a label on it." Sam's face wrinkled in
thought trying to further define the feeling. Sam shrugged the memory
off. "Still, I would like to know what's going on in that regard.
Just so I don't stick my foot in it."

"You and the entire FBI," Al said, scanning the handlink, amused.
"That sorta thing is frowned upon for law enforcement partners, you
know. There's still a lot of holes in Ziggy's information, but you
know how Ziggy loves gossip. How she got this information, I don't
know, but it seems that there is no conclusive evidence either way.
Only some references to various bets and office pools as to whether
or not they were 'bingo-bango-bongo-ing' on *or* off company time!"
Al finished with a flourish and a Groucho Marx impression complete
with eyebrows and lit cigar.

Sam rolled his eyes and wiped his hands across his face, "Al," he
said in a warning tone, "You know-"

"Save your, lecture Sam. I just skipped ahead to the most
current information Ziggy has... and that is pretty current. It's
still a mystery. However, there still seems to money riding on it. A
lot of money," he added with a small smirk.

Sam let out a sigh. "Well, it would be nice to know for comfort's
sake, but this isn't getting us anywhere."

Al was still studying the information coming in over the handlink.
"Well, as far as I can tell, this case was solved. They nailed the
guy....for good...er...even if it was in a brutal fashion. Yuck!" Al
paused and took a deep breath. "Both Agents Mulder and Scully are
alive and well and still partners in our present...er, well, my
present. It looks like things are going well for them...their case
resolution rate is still phenomenal..." Al said, not finishing his
thought. Sam didn't notice.

"What could it be then? I mean, I know things I fix aren't always
life and death, but still, Al, this is strange. I mean, we have had
some strange ones I guess, haven't we?" Sam tried to rack his brain.
What he remembered from leap to leap, or if he remembered a
particular leap in itself wasn't always a constant thing. Sam started
pacing, and still didn't notice that he was, in fact, talking to
himself.

"Their case is going well. I have to say that I feel like I made
progress for them. You said that this case gets solved anyway, so I
just don't get..." Sam trailed off, finally noticing that he was
getting no response from Al.

Sam was startled to find that Al had sunk into a seated position on
the floor. In itself, that was not such a startling thing. It was
more Al's horrified expression and the particular shade of green Al's
skin had turned.

"Al! What is it!?"

It took a moment for Al to tear his eyes off of the handlink. "Oh
Sam..." he started, turning his anguished expression on Sam.

"Al?"

"Alive and well, I said. *Well*, in this case, is a relative term,"
Al said softly. He took a deep breath and began to run down some of
the more unbelievable and horrifying cases Agent's Mulder and Scully
had worked on, and their consequences.

 X*X*X

Once Al finished giving Sam the run-down thirty minutes later, Sam's
pallor was pretty close to Al's. "God, Al. Are you sure we are
working for the same government?" Sam asked with a sigh.

"What I wanna know is if some of these insane things really exist!
Geez, Sam, even the case you are 'helping' with..." Al shuddered.

Sam had a point to make, and brought Al back to his original
question. "Maybe this leap has ramifications for us, Al. Maybe God,
Fate, Time, or Whatever is trying to tell us to watch our backs."

"Sam, you are starting to sound like Agent Mulder."

"I'm serious, Al. After this, we, or you rather, are going to have to
keep some tabs on some of our government friends. Quantum Leap cannot
be used to-"

"I understand, Sam. You won't remember, but we did take some
precautions before you jumped from the frying pan into the fire.
Plus, they haven't had to deal with Ziggy. She can be pretty
formidable if need be." The handlink chirped in agreement.

Both men gave each other a long look that cemented a mutual
understanding; silently agreeing that no matter what happened,
Quantum Leap would *not* fall into the wrong hands-- even if it meant
the voluntary destruction of the Project. Both knew what that would
mean if Sam failed to return home before that time. There was nothing
more to be said on the subject.

Sam's head was still spinning. "How could two people survive the
things that those two have...er, will..." Sam gave up trying to
conjugate verbs.

"Ain't grammar and time-travel a bitch?" Al quipped, trying to
lighten the mood.

Sam just sighed.

"Well, Sam, I think you've pretty much answered your earlier
speculation."

"What speculation?" Sam asked.

"What the nature of Agents Mulder and Scully's relationship is."

"Oh? How so?"

"Mere partners couldn't survive those things."

"Al," Sam said with disdain, "that doesn't mean they are sleeping
together!"

"Sam. You wound me." Al said in not-so-mock indignation. "That is not
what I meant. There's a bond there, Sam. You said it earlier. Respect
and affection."

Sam let that sink in. Somehow that "felt" right, and Sam smiled.

 Sam thought.

"And," Al continued, "if there is anything more, well, it's none of
our business...or anyone else's for that matter. Regulations be
damned!"

"Yeah," said Sam. "I agree. After all, they make a great team."

"That they do," Al said, rocking back and forth on the balls of his
feet.

Sam couldn't help but see a parallel, realizing that he rarely got
the chance to tell Al how much he appreciated him.

 Sam thought.

Still smiling, Sam added, "Kinda reminds me of another great team."

It took a moment, but Al's smile grew wider. "Damn straight!"
The mischievous look was back in Al's eyes. "There is one thing,
though, Sam."

"What's that?"

"Try and kiss me and I'll deck you," Al said with a straight face.

X*X*X

February 24, 2001 
Project Quantum Leap 
Stallion's Gate New Mexico

Al exited the Imaging Chamber and started to make his way to the
Waiting Room, his mood lightened considerably.

 Al thought.  Al sighed.



He quickly pushed the thought away, as if thinking it for too long
would turn him into a first-class sap. After all, he had bigger
problems at the moment. While still with Sam at Agent Scully's
apartment, a call from Agent Mulder had snapped them out of their
momentary reprieve, and back to the problem at hand-- what Sam was
supposed to fix. Since Ziggy still had no idea, Sam thought it best
that he just keep plodding along while Al tried to get any sort of
information on the case that Agent Scully could provide; even if she
still couldn't remember much.

As much as Al enjoyed Scully's company, that brought up another
dilemma- how to face Agent Scully after all he had learned. It was
late, so he decided to sleep on it. He'd send someone in with dinner
for Agent Scully, along with his regrets and a promise that he would
see her in the morning. Once rested, he might be able to put up a
better facade.

X*X*X

February 25, 2001 
Project Quantum Leap 
Stallion's Gate, New Mexico



With this thought, he arrived at the Waiting Room door. Earlier,
Ziggy had informed him she had dug up some more information, but she
still couldn't come up with, in her words, "a reasonable hypothesis."



Ziggy also informed him that Agent Scully was awake and awaiting his
arrival.

Al took a deep breath and straightened his collar. He had dressed
with care this morning, thinking his choice of wardrobe a good one.
He hit the release for the door and strode in. He could see the
remains of the breakfast that had been brought in.

Agent Scully put down the printout that she had been reading,
smiling tentatively as she turned to look at Al. She sucked in her
breath. Sharply.

Al had worn his dress whites. Scully couldn't help but eye
him appreciatively. Eyeing turned into gawking as she saw the
decorations.

"Yep," Al said leering. "Chicks dig the uniform."

Scully shut her mouth and smirked. She could tell that Al was only
joking. Still, she was impressed. Some of those decorations...
well...they meant that this man had endured some horrible things.

Al could almost sense the empathy.



He shook off the emotion, disguising it with a quip. "Well, I usually
only break out the Whites when I have to face those bozos on the
Hill. Still, it's nice to air it out once in a while." He gestured to
the printouts and asked, "What were you reading?"

"Oh...just some of Dr. Beckett's published papers. Ziggy was kind
enough to print them out for me."

"You're welcome, Dana," Ziggy said with pride.

Scully stifled a small jump. Al pretended not to notice.

"Ziggy," Al scolded, "What did I tell you about making your presence
known?"

"Sorry, Dana," the disembodied voice said remorsefully. "Really. I
only arrived when the Admiral did."

"It's okay, Ziggy. I understand," Scully said.

 Al
thought.

"I'm so glad, Dana!" Ziggy started with renewed exuberance, "Admiral!
Dana and I had great long talk yesterday..."

Al glanced at Dana and noticed the color rising to her cheeks.
He remembered the discussion as he had left. As much as he would have
liked to know just what had been discussed, he took pity on the
agent.

"Ziggy. I'm sure you did. But we have other things to deal with right
now."

Scully was visibly relieved. Al smiled.

"Ziggy...why don't you continue to try and gain access to the case
files while Agent Scully and I talk."

"Admiral, as you well know, I am extremely capable of multi-tasking-"

"I *know*, Ziggy."

"Alright, alright." Ziggy said petulantly. "I know when I'm not
wanted."

"Ziggy, it's not that you are not wanted. I just want to talk with
Agent Scully without any interruptions."

Ziggy made some sniffing sounds and Al sighed. Scully came to his
rescue. "We can talk later, Ziggy." She said.

"We can? I mean...that would be wonderful, Dana! We could pick up
where we left off yesterday...you remember-"

"Uh...yeah...I remember...sure...fine!" Scully added hastily.

It was now Al's turn to smirk, doing so as he laid the
ever-present handlink onto the table next to the printouts, most of
the lights winking out as he did so.

"She gone?" Scully asked.

"For now," Al said.

"Is there something wrong?" Scully asked, gesturing at the handlink.

"No. Oh...I see. No, nothing's wrong," Al said. "It's just hard
trying to concentrate with Ziggy constantly interrupting."

"I see," Scully, said smiling.

"Well, then. Have you figured out what Dr. Beckett needs to do?"

"No. Still nothing. Not even an educated guess. As far as the
information I have goes, you solve the case."

It was Scully's turn to sigh.

"What's wrong?" Al asked.

"Al, I have been thinking about this, and it has me troubled."

"How so?"

Scully caught and held Al's gaze. "Well, if I am to believe you, then
Dr. Beckett has replaced me to fix something I couldn't do. And
well... that makes me feel...somewhat....inadequate. Like I'm letting
Mulder down."

Al was genuinely startled by this. He had never thought of Sam's work
in that way before. All of the information he received about Agent
Scully came flooding back, swirling in his mind. He let out a breath
he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Al?"

"It's nothing, really."

Scully's eyebrow arched.

He took a moment to answer. "In truth, Agent Scully, I just find it
hard to believe you would be inadequate to any task you put your mind
to."

Scully smiled, feeling Al's sincerity, but she still wasn't
convinced.

A thought Al had from the night before popped into his head and he
made a split-second decision.

"Agent Scully. Normally, I wouldn't divulge any details about Sam's
leaps to those who are outside the project. But I think I can bend
the rules for once and share this with you."

He pulled the chair out for Scully and bade her to sit. Once she
was seated, he pulled up a chair of his own and continued. "When Sam
first started leaping around, he once leaped into this guy, Doc. Doc
was a veterinarian who made his living looking after livestock on
some big ranches in Texas. All our calculations told us that Sam was
there to get Doc to admit that he loved this gal, win her over, which
was no small feat, and by doing so, make sure that her daddy's ranch
would stay in the family and be cared for. Of course, this is an over
simplification."

"Of course," Scully said rhetorically. However, the statement was
made without the biting sarcasm of the previous day.

Al took this as a good sign and continued, "Well... as it turned
out ...well...."

"Well?" Scully asked.

"Um. I just realized how strange this is gonna sound."

"Oh, and the rest of this entire situation *isn't* strange?" Scully
asked.

Al cleared his throat. He was determined to get his point
across. "Well...uh... as it turned out, well... Sam was really there
to help Buddy Holly write a song."

That was probably the last thing Dana Scully expected.

"Buddy Holly? *The* Buddy Holly?"

"Yup."

"How in the hell does Buddy Holly fit into all of this?"

"Well, you see, we didn't know it was him. That is this young
man...he helped out at Doc's place with the animals."

"O-kay...and?"

"Well, Sam...that is Doc...well, Sam...it ended up, he didn't succeed
in getting the girl. Uh...so-to-speak. Sorta like now...we had no
clue as to what Sam needed to do. It was at that point Sam couldn't
find the pig."

"What pig?" Scully was now having difficulty keeping track of the
flow of events.

"Oh...the pig that Sam had been treating for allergies."

"Oh." was all Scully could manage.

"Anyway... Buddy was always strumming on that guitar of his-- every
time I popped in, it seems. It was no different when Sam and I were
talking and he realized the pig was missing. Buddy was out on the
porch strumming along when Sam went outside to find the pig. So here
we are...calling for the pig, "Here Piggy! Here Piggy, Piggy. Piggie
Sooooey!"

Scully had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh. Here was a Navy
officer, an *Admiral*, in full dress, no less, imitating pig calls!

"And," Al continued, "Buddy incorporated that into the song."

Scully's face fell. "Oh God...don't tell me..."

"Well, Sam suggested that he try Peggy Sue, instead."

"You can't be serious?!" Scully exclaimed and stared.

"I am serious, Agent Scully. After Buddy sang the first few bars,
Sam leaped outta there so fast it made my head spin!" Al almost got
nauseous thinking about it.

"And you expect me to believe this?!" Scully asked.

Al gave her a long, hard look and leaned forward to make his point.
Scully leaned in as well.

"Agent Scully, I'm not asking you to believe any of it. But, it is
true. For me, and for Sam. What I am trying to say is, sometimes it's
the *little* things that make all the difference. Things that don't
require grand plans and logic," Al finished waving his hands. Scully,
as usual, looked skeptical.

"My point is, Agent Scully, is that whatever Sam is there to do, it
could be something *that* minor. It has nothing to do with any
inadequacy on your part," he finished with a determined smile.

Scully leaned back in her chair, thinking it over. A few moments
later, she visibly relaxed. Al could see that he had made her feel
better, but still had a nagging feeling there was something more he
should say. He couldn't put his finger on it, though. After a few
more seconds dragged by, he shook the feeling off.



"Now that we have settled that, and we still have no clue as to what
Sam is supposed to do, let's help him out with your case."

"I thought you said that Mulder and I solved the case anyway," Scully
said.

"Yeah, and we wanna keep it that way!" Al replied.

Al and Agent Scully conferred for over two hours. He told her what
Sam was proposing and she concurred, making suggestions for changes
here and there. On the whole, Scully was impressed.

"It seems Dr. Beckett has an aptitude for investigative work," she
stated.

"With seven Ph.D.s, he better have an aptitude for a lot of things!"
Al replied.

"Seven?" Scully asked.

"Yep."

 Scully thought to herself.

X*X*X

Once he finished going over the case with Agent Scully, Al changed
clothes and went to the Imaging Chamber to brief Sam. He stuck around
while Sam went about his business and helped where he could. He could
tell Sam was still anxious about why he was there. Unfortunately, Al
and Ziggy had no answers. This had been the longest period of time
where they were all still clueless as to Sam's reason for leaping
into a particular life and time. In the end, Al left Sam to his own
devices.

X*X*X

END - Leap of Fate - Part 3 of 4

X*X*X


Leap of Fate (Part 4 of 4) 
By Adina Ringler 
aringler@earthlink.net
Disclaimer, etc in Part 1

X*X*X

February 25, 2001 
Project Quantum Leap 
Stallion's Gate New Mexico

Al grabbed some supper for both he and Agent Scully before heading
back to the Waiting Room. Sam had charged him with asking her a few
more questions, but Al's anticipation for the visit was more for
himself. What Sam needed aside.

Al admitted he had grown attached to their lovely visitor. One just
had to like Special Agent, Dr. Dana Scully. Not only did he like her,
he enjoyed the banter, and her company. He enjoyed it despite the
fact that it made him uncomfortable knowing what little he did about
her future. He wished there was something, anything, he could do to
help. But that was a big no-no. He sighed. Changing things was Sam's
department, and even that Sam had little control over. Sam didn't
choose what he could change, and meddling could upset God, Fate,
Time, or Whatever was leaping Sam around. Not that that had ever
happened. Al didn't want to find out, either. That could have dire
consequences. The nagging feeling he had twice before was back,
though, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why, or
what, it meant.

Al knocked before entering the Waiting Room, and hearing Agent
Scully's reply, opened the door.

"Supper has arrived," he stated with a smile.

"Well, at least I can say you are feeding me well," Scully said.

They sat and ate in companionable silence for a while.

"Anything new?" Scully asked.

"I hate to sound like a broken record, but no," Al answered. "I do
have two questions from Sam. Actually, they aren't specific to the
case."

"Oh?" Scully asked, curious.

Al wasn't quite certain how to proceed.

"Well, Sam's been pretty lucky during this leap. That is... he hasn't
had to worry about blowing his cover."

"How so?"

"You and Agent Mulder have been working this case from different
vantage points."

"I'm sorry, Al. I don't think I'm following."

"That is... Sam hasn't had to spend much time with your partner. Uh,
in the same place."

"Oh. Okay. I see what you are saying. Dr. Beckett hasn't had much of
a chance to say or do something...well...out of character. That is,
do something I wouldn't do."

"That's it. Exactly." Al said, hoping that he wouldn't have to "spell
it out."

"Until now?" Scully stated.

"Until now. He's meeting Agent Mulder later this evening, and he's a
little worried.

"That he will do or say something to give himself away?"

"Yeah," Al stuttered, his face coloring slightly.

It wouldn't take an FBI Agent to figure out that Al was beating
around the proverbial bush, and she had the distinct feeling which
bush he was beating around.

 she thought.
Not life-threatening dangerous, but personally dangerous.

"Admiral. Are you asking me if the nature of Agent Mulder's and
my relationship goes beyond the strict professionalism of our
partnership?" she asked, pinning him with her ice blue gaze.

 Al forced himself not to betray
any uneasiness at her change in demeanor. 

"No. Not in so many words, Agent Scully. No," Al said simply.

Scully let out a sigh. "Well, you'd be the first person to actually
have the guts to ask me to my face... I think..." she trailed off
quizzically.

Al smiled weakly. 

"Actually, Agent Scully, from the information that Ziggy has found,
you're still keeping them all guessing. There seems to be quite a lot
of money riding on bets and office pools," Al said trying to make her
laugh.

Scully's expression turned from anger to mortification. Al didn't
say anything, but Scully could see from his expression that he
didn't understand the nature of her discomfort.

"From time to time, I have heard whispers behind my back, or down a
hallway when others had no idea I was around. For the most part, I
could care less what they thought. But to think that you could easily
access that type of information, well... I didn't realize that
people's speculations were that...I don't know... widespread. To
think that this overshadows our work somehow, Al, is very
disappointing," she finished, eyes downcast.

"I see...well, don't think anything more of it, Agent Scully.
Really. First, that information wasn't easy to come up with. And, if
you haven't noticed, Ziggy has a penchant for gossip. She can sniff
it out of the deepest, darkest,and most unbelievable places." Al
dipped his head and smiled, trying to make eye contact. "And, again,
there is *still* no conclusive evidence either way. Scully looked up.
Al continued, "It's almost like-"

"An X-File?" Scully finished for him. Al chuckled and Scully smiled
in spite of herself.

Even though Scully was smiling again, Al had to press on. That
nagging feeling was surfacing again. Like there was something
important he should say.

"Truly, I wasn't trying to pry. I mean, hey, I'm as curious as the
next guy, but it is none of my business. Sam said the same thing.
Still, he doesn't want to mess up. You know? After all, Agent Mulder
is a skilled investigator. If you started acting strangely, well...
that would put him on edge, to say the least." Al rubbed his eyes.
"It's obvious you two share more than a, how did you put it, 'a
strictly professional partnership.'"

Scully was about to argue, but Al stopped her, holding up both hands.
"No. Let me finish." This was going to be a semantic tennis match. "I
don't doubt for a second that your partnership is professional.
*Strictly* is the is the term that doesn't fit."

Again, Scully tried to speak. Again, Al stopped her. "*And*, I'm not
saying you are participating in any, shall we say, 'activities'
forbidden by rules written or implied for law enforcement partners.
What I *am* saying is that what you and Agent Mulder have between you
is not *just* a partnership in the strictest sense of the word. It's
not *just* anything. If you guys were *just* partners, Sam wouldn't
have felt what he had, and told me about it. He wouldn't be as jumpy
either. He would also give himself the guilt-trip of a lifetime if he
screwed it up between you two. Whatever *it* might be."

This really was a nerve-wracking conversation, but Scully could see
Al's point. She also had to admit that it was nice, if this was truly
happening, that someone was looking out for her...and Mulder. She let
out an explosive sigh. "I understand why you asked, Al...I just don't
feel comfortable talking about this with you."



It didn't take a degree in psychology for Al to see that her emotions
ran deep where her partner was concerned. From what Sam said about
his experience in the car, Agent Mulder's feelings ran deep as well.
Al wished there was some way to lighten the mood. Scully's question
startled him out of his reverie.

"What exactly did Dr. Beckett feel?" she asked, curious.

The glint returned to Al's eyes. "I believe that Sam likened Agent
Mulder to a starving man and that Sam felt like he was Agent Mulder's
lunch.'"

Scully colored a bit.  she thought and could feel the temperature in the room
rise a few degrees.

Al could see that Sam had hit the nail on the head. "If that makes
you feel uncomfortable-"

"I didn't say that it makes me feel uncomfortable, Al," she
interrupted, almost shyly.

Al shared a conspiratorial smile with her and stopped her, "Let me
finish. Imagine how uncomfortable Sam feels."

At first, Scully didn't get it, but when she did, the usually
unflappable agent couldn't help but giggle.

"I love to watch Sam squirm sometimes, especially when it comes to
women. He's very proper, you know. But since it's a guy sending some
ambiguous vibes, I figured I'd cut the kid some slack this time," he
said with genuine fondness.

Scully really could understand, now, why Al had brought up this topic
of conversation, and she did feel sorry for Dr. Beckett. Listening to
Al's story, though, steadily gave her insight as to the person that
was Al. It snapped in place almost at once.

"He's your best friend, isn't he?" she asked softly.

Al was amazed at how quickly she had turned the tables on him. With
a smile, he mimicked Scully's earlier statement, "Agent Scully, as
you suggesting that Sam and I are more than *strictly* co-workers?"

"Touche, Admiral," she said, not unkindly.

"Yes, Agent Scully, Sam is my best friend." Al felt he owed Scully
more than just a statement of fact, so he went on to explain, "When
we met for the first time, I was in the process of destroying what
was left of my life at the time. I wasn't suicidal. I was just a very
angry person at that point. When Sam came upon me, I was fighting
with a vending machine...and losing."

Despite the painful memories, Al smiled, remembering that first
meeting. Then he continued, "The whys and wherefores are not
important, but he gave me a job. And we became friends. I needed
someone to believe in me, and that is just what he did. I can't say
for sure, but he probably saved my life."

Scully smiled warmly as an encouragement to continue if he wished to
do so.

"You see, I want my best friend back. I just wish he would finish the
damn things he's supposed to do, so he can get back home to his
family and his friends. Where he belongs. I know he's done so much
good for others, but we all just want him to come home. Permanently.
And as selfish as it sounds, I would give just about anything to have
Sam back, coerce him into ditching work, and popping into LA for an
evening to take in a Lakers' game."

Scully was genuinely touched. "That is not selfish at all, Al. It's
called being human." She paused for a moment. "And I think after
being partnered with Mulder, that I understand the power of belief."

With her last statement, the pieces of what had been nagging Al fell
into place. It was his conscience, and it was trying to tell him
something ever since he and Sam had shared that mutual pat on the
back.



Sam had been right when he had said that he had sensed respect
and affection. But he had left out trust...and belief.

Scully could tell that her words had some how sparked some sort
of revelation in Al.

Al focused his gaze on Scully. "Have you ever told Agent Mulder you
believe-"

"Al, I don't believe half of the-"

"No, Agent Scully, that you believe in *him*? You do believe in him,
don't you?"

Scully didn't even hesitate. "Of course I believe in Mulder. If I
didn't, I wouldn't be with him."

>From what Al had learned about Agent Mulder, it would mean a
tremendous amount to the former FBI wunderkid to have someone like
Agent Scully believe in him. Not at all unlike the way Sam had
believed in him what seemed like all those years ago.

"When Sam and I were discussing what to do yesterday, he reminded me
what a great team we made, and, well... that he appreciated our
friendship. He believes that between the two of us, we'll figure out
a way for him to get home someday. He's right. I know we will, and
he'll come home. So, I'll ask you again, 'Have you ever told him that
you believe in him?'"

Scully was at a loss. Her memory wasn't at its best right now. "I...
I think I have. But he has got to know that."

"It's not the same as saying it. You may or may not remember anything
about this leap when it's all over, but this is important."

The thought of all the things the two of them would have to face
together, made him shudder. If he could help them to help
themselves...

To further stress his point, he took her hands in his own.
"Dana, regardless of what the nature of your relationship with Agent
Mulder is now or in the future, promise me... promise me that you'll
tell him you believe in him. It could mean all the difference in the
world. After all, it's the little things that count."

His heartfelt entreaty did not fall on deaf ears. She couldn't help
the tears that welled up, but didn't spill from her eyes.

"I promise, Al. If it is within my power, I'll tell him."

Al's sense of relief was almost palpable, to the both of them. He
was tired, but He did have some information to get back to Sam. Al
let go of Agent Scully's hands and smiled. She smiled back.

"I guess I should get some of this information to Sam."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Er...what should I tell Sam if, well...he starts feeling like
'lunch' again?"

Scully thought for a moment, her smile deepening. "Tell Dr. Beckett
just to 'go with it.'"

"And that is what you do? Just go with it?" Al asked.

"Yeah," she said. A split second later, she smirked and added, "For
now."

A devilish grin appeared on Al's face as he started to depart for
the Imaging Chamber.

"Al?" She said, stopping him.

"Yeah?"

"You said Dr. Beckett had two questions. I'm almost afraid to ask.
What was the other one?"

"Oh...nothing really." Al said, "What does Agent Mulder like to eat?
He asked that you bring him dinner!"

X*X*X

Joe's Diner 
Somewhere on the outskirts of Baltimore, MD

Sam was in line, patiently waiting to pick up some food for Agent
Mulder. Al had popped in earlier to add some scant information to
what he had collected. He also gave him Scully's praise as an
investigator. Sam had to smile at that. From what Al said, that kind
of compliment from Agent Scully was to be highly revered. At least he
felt a little bit of relief about his upcoming meeting with Mulder.
He wasn't quite sure what exactly had transpired between Agent Scully
and Al, but Al seemed a little less tense than he had the last time
he had popped in. At least, from what Al said, he didn't have to
worry about how to respond to Agent Scully's partner. It seemed like
acting like a deer in the headlights was status quo. That description
wasn't quite fair to Agent Scully, but he couldn't think of anything
more politically correct.

Sam pondered the menu and ordered. Fifteen minutes later, he paid
for dinner. He had just gotten into the car when he had this strange
feeling that all was right with the world. That was quickly replaced
with the premonition of a "tug."

"No! " Sam yelled to no one in particular. "What have I done? I have
to know!" That was the last thing he said as the crackling blue
light surrounded him and he leaped to his next destination.

X*X*X

Stakeout 
Baltimore, MD

Scully had felt completely disoriented for the past forty-five
minutes, but she couldn't figure out why. She also felt an
overwhelming desire to prove to Mulder just how much she believed in
him, despite what had happened at headquarters and the courtroom the
other day.

Mulder had even started the whole thing by obliquely stating how much
he cared about her, by telling her that he didn't want to be the
cause of any reprimands in her file. She was trying so hard, but to
her, it seemed that she had only succeed in sticking her foot in her
mouth just seconds before. As he fumbled with a reply, she was
determined to give it one more try. He was looking at her with that
goofy smile he sometimes wore.

"Mulder, I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you."

She pinned him with the intensity of her gaze, as if by doing so, he
would understand the force of her words.

Her words struck him in almost a physical way, and he was
totally unprepared for the onslaught. His mouth went dry, unable to
speak the words even if he knew how to reply. It didn't hurt; on the
contrary, it was pleasurable. Her words, her voice, her eyes, all
bespoke unconditional loyalty. He had never thought-- hoped to
think-- that he could command, much less deserve, such loyalty. Here
was a truth he never thought to find. And he knew, *knew* it was the
truth. His partner had just neatly packaged it up, as if wrapped in
brilliant paper, bows and ribbons, and dumped it into his lap. Lock,
stock, and barrel. If he still harbored any fears that Scully really
was a spy, those thoughts fled the field of battle. Just hightailed
it and ran.

He let himself enjoy the gift she had given him for the briefest
of moments. The feelings it inspired were so intense, he thought he
might burn. He needed to deflect them somehow, or else he'd lose all
composure. He did so in the only way he knew how. With a shield of
humor.

He leered. "If there's an iced tea in that bag," he said, slitting
his eyes and wagging his eyebrows, "it could be love."

Although her heart was pounding and despite Mulder's humorous ploy,
it was absolutely clear to her that he understood the message she was
trying to send, and she felt as if some sort of mission had been
accomplished.

She dug into the bag which held the drink she couldn't quite
remember buying. She started speaking before determining the cup's
contents.

"It must be fate Mulder," she said handing the cup to him while
glancing at its top..."Iced Tea."

*FINIS* - Leap of Fate

"Obscurum per obscurius, ignotum per ignotius"
---------------------------------------------------
"Let the obscure be explained by the more obscure,
 the unknown, by the more unknown."  

   Clive Barker (from The Great And Secret Show)

    Source: geocities.com/area51/vault/3768