Old 03-20-2003, 03:51 AM   #1
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Default Round Robin Four (No title yet)

Cold. A flat, stale cold greeted Dr. Samuel Beckett as the warm buzzing energy of the leap dissipated from his skin. He knew he should probably open his eyes; that it was stupid to enter a new leap without extending his senses out to guide him, but he kept them pressed shut as a sudden brisk breeze had drifted by and stung them closed when he first tried. He shivered a little and drew his arms in close. He felt the stretchy, clingy fabric of his clothing and a pain? or rather a discomfort around his feet and ankles. Not the pain of heels, he noted with relief, but it was a strangely familiar feeling he couldn?t quite yet place.

Where was he? When was he?

This was ridiculous. He couldn?t expect to figure anything out by just standing here with his eyes shut. He opened his eyes to examine his situation further. They opened and grew wider and wider as he took it all in.

The blades to the stiff white boots shone with a glint and the sheer sequined ruffles on his chest shook lightly with the chilling breeze from the ventilation ducts above. An expanse of ice spread out around him. From the corner of his eye he noted it? a blur? a person shaped blur came gliding? no speeding his way! They were waving at him? Shouting at him, as they came flying closer and closer.

?Move! What are you doing?!?

Sam slipped as he unsuccessfully fought to skate out of the person?s path. Their bodies collided and landed in a notably ungraceful crash. Sam lay groaning in a crumpled heap on the ice, which was beginning to melt under him.

?Oh boy??
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Old 07-31-2003, 05:26 AM   #2
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Default pt 2.

"Are you alright, Lynn?"

Sam had heard the older woman walking as gracefully as she could over to him, despite the ice and her lack of ice-walking shoes. He blinked, and looked up to see a rather severe looking lady who looked very familiar to his swiss-cheesed memory. Her hair was grayish, and pulled back over her ears, making her cheekbones that much more pronounced. Most of her head was hidden under a strong furred cap that looked Russian in style. She was smiling, and Sam thought she looked like a wonderful mother-like figure. And he couldn't get the fact that she looked so familiar out of his head.

He was lying fairly still on the ice, feeling its numbing cold penetrating what he now knew was his dress. He didn't have to look at it to really know how much it hiked up... he wondered how any female could ever be that comfortable wearing anything so formfitting and revealing. Now, the sounds of several approaching people could be heard, as were the alarms in their voices. It was impossible to follow all the individual questions, so he feigned being knocked out of breath as he tried to sort things out.

"Holly?" one man said, in a strong English accent. "I think she's fine, Jill."

Sam looked up, and blanched, fully recognizing the gentleman.

He was wearing earmuffs, but the rest of his face and head were visible. His face was kind, and starting to show the varying degrees of age as he was entering into his late forties or fifties. His piercing blue eyes seemed to bore deep into Sam's soul, and he wondered how much of the Leapee he was feeling at that particular moment. "You keep sitting on that ice, you'll frost bite your bum!" the man joked, as he reached down to help Sam up.

"Wait a minute, Roger," another man said as he came into view. "Lynn could have hurt something..."

"Oh, pish poish, Johnny," Roger said, as he extended his other hand to Sam, grasping Dr. Beckett's fingers. In a surprisingly firm grip, the older man grunted and helped Sam to his skated feet. "Ms. Johnson just had the wind knocked out of her... she'll be fine," Roger continued. "After all, she's making movies now... she'll have to learn to roll with the bumps!"

"Movies?" Sam said, as he looked around the ice-rink, only to focus on about fifty people on the other side of the area, all engaged in their various jobs, most not even paying attention to the scene before them. From their attitudes and attentiveness, Sam guessed the movie equipment wasn't on. He glanced back to see the far older man named 'Johnny' glancing at Sam in alarm. Sam smiled it away, and began to hyperventilate a bit. "Just got the breath knocked out of me," he said lightly, and giggled a bit, trying to keep the image of a young woman up.

"Hmmmmmmmm," muttered 'Johnny', who turned to a woman who was his assistant. "Get Ms. Johnson a cup of coffee, decaf, please." He looked over at Sam. "Sugar? Cream?"

Sam smiled and nodded, uncertain, but going with the flow at this point. The assistant nodded, knowing before "Holly" had even replied, and had started on her way. "Certainly, Mr. Glen," she said lightly, smiled at Dr. Beckett, batted an eye and turned on a dime and started to move, but stopped and turned back. "Ms. Johnson, your agent called, and needs to speak with you." Not expecting an answer, she sped away.

"You alright to continue, or do you want to check out the dailies from yesterday, Lynn?" the older man asked.

Sam was grateful for the distraction, and said "You bet!" before he even thought twice about what he had committed himself to doing. As Dr. Beckett was being led back towards the camera crews, he fielded many questions if he was okay or not, assuring everyone that he was indeed, just fine. The older woman he thought he recognized disappeared in the frenzy, forgotten in the rush of activity. Sam momentarily scanned around for her. "Where did Jill go?" he asked in general, knowing someone would speak up.

"Oh, Ms. Bennett went to the trailer to warm up. Not to worry, Ms. Johnson."

Dr. Beckett nodded, and was led to a classic "director's chair", a felt chair framed by wooden supports, that was famous for folding up and easy portability. Sam looked on the back and read "John Glen, Director", and smiled. He noticed one of the crew members had a black office folder that had "James Bond" embossed in gold upon the front of it.

His smile disappeared with a shudder as the small television showed the hazy scene of a young athlete turned actress skating around the rink, having dialogue with the actors named Roger and Jill...

Therefore it came as no surprise to hear the Imaging Door open up, and to hear Al breathlessly utter, "My God, Sam! You wouldn't believe where you are! You're on the James Bond movie set of "For Your Eyes Only"!!

Sam sighed.

"You know, this is the one with Roger Moore!!"

Sam sighed again. The director looked over and Dr. Beckett gave up his best fake smile, and he looked away.

"John Glen directed this one and so many others!!"

Sam groaned softly.

"And OhMyGod!! There's Jill Bennett!!!"

Sam looked over and saw the older woman approaching, who returned Sam's glance with a soft smile.

"And now you've Leaped into Lynn-Holly Johnson, the Ice Skate Gold Medalist!"

Sam sighed. This was going to be another one of those Leaps!
* * * * * * * * *
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Old 08-27-2003, 01:47 AM   #3
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Default pt 3

"And BOY o boy do I still wish I could see you the way I could Samantha!! Wow, what a woman!"

"You keep up with that kind of talk I'll throw you under the ice!" Sam retorted back angrilly, only to pause and blanch again... realizing that he'd spoken aloud. Dr. Beckett turned around to see everyone (and that means EVERYONE) looking at him, for Sam had been staring at nobody when he'd said it.

Chuckling nervously, he shrugged. "Just thinking of an ad lib, Mr. Moore!"

Roger Moore's gentlemanly attitude crumbled a bit, and he fell into his character for a moment. "Goodness Bibi, what will your Uncle think?"

Sam grinned, remembering the line. He squinted his eyes and said in a flighty voice, "Him? He still thinks I'm a Virgin!"

The crew cracked up, John Glenn the director rolled his eyes and turned back to the tv screen, and Roger tossed her a wink, and returned back to the screen as well. Sam sat still for a moment, and watched the flickering images for a few moments, and quickly grew bored.

Television and movies never really excited him that much; he prefered the real thing or books and plays. Live drama, be it theater or opera, was always more stirring to his soul than some two-dimensional screen. Admittedly, when he was a kid, Sam had fallen for some of the science fiction shows of their time, for young Sam Beckett had already, even then, determined where he wanted to spend his time...


He grew up exploring with his mind. After breaching his mind, he worked on his body, with sports and martial arts. Some icons he admitted he fell for. Marilyn Monroe had touched a soul he thought long buried in physics. Various musical artists he aspired to not imitate them, but surpass their abilities with the piano and voice... something even Dr. Beckett had to admit wasn't possible.

But through it all, he always felt the need to explore.

Yet here he was exploring the forty different takes of one shot from when Lynn Holly Johnson's character meets "James Bond", and a brief flirtation happens. Something that is supposed to be yet another James Bond conquest...

Suddenly an arguement happened before Dr. Beckett... or at least he tuned back into the real world long enough to hear most of it.

"Johnny, boy it just doesn't feel right! I'm old enough to be the girl's flippin' grandfather, and at times, I bloody well feel it!"

"Roger, please! James always gets the girl!"


Sam felt everyone's eyes suddenly turn towards him, and he realized he spoke aloud.

"Why what, dearie?" Jill Bennett said, amused. She had fought like a lion to get a role in this movie, or so Sam had heard once.

"Well, what I mean is," Sam stumbled for a moment, and then looked up. "Why SHOULD James Bond, an English gentlemen that is nearly thirt-twenty years my senior WANT to sleep with an immature girl. It would almost be paramount to abuse or rape, despite the girl's age!"

Mr Moore nodded his head vehemently. "Bloody well RIGHT!" Well said, m'dear!"

"Saaaaammmmmmm! You just changed History!"

Dr. Beckett paled for a moment, and looked over at Al, who was grinning ear to ear! "Wha?" he mouthed.

Consulting Ziggy's handlink, Al read off it. "Originally, Roger and Lynn did as the script said, and the movie bombed, even more than a james Bond movie normally does. Nobody bought the love scene, and it ruined Roger's career. Now, he becomes endeared for refusing her advances," Al said, with a shake of his head. "So that's it, kid. Prepare to Leap!"

Sam looked away, pleased with himself. Al likewise grinned and looked around...

only to have nothing happen!

Frustrated, Al stuck his cigar back in his pocket, and consulted the handlink. His eyes bugged out slightly. "Woah!"

Sam gestured for Al to give more... not wanting to look like a total weirdo by talking to apparent thin air.

"Um, Sam, apparently two stunt men get hurt really bad on the 'motorcycles on the snow' gag that get's shot in the next couple of days. John Glenn gets sued, and quits the business forever."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *
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Old 09-10-2003, 03:28 PM   #4
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Default Part 4

Sam, quite disappointed at not being able to leap out of this place, especially the skates that were tormenting his feet, looked at Al incredulously. Making no excuses for himself, the time traveller removed the skates as fast as possible, and wandered off in stocking feet.

"Sam! Where are you going?" Al exclaimed as he headed for the chalet, all abuzz with on-looking extras. Sam didn't answer as he trudged up the steps and through the front doors. "Gooshie, centre me on Sam!"

The leaper stepped through into the foyer and looked around. He was trying to find a bathroom, no matter how much Al hated conversing in them.

"Oh, Miss Johnson, would you like to go to your room?" questioned a young man of maybe eighteen, dressed in a stereotypical bell-hop's outfit. "Did you forget your key again?"

"Uh, yeah, I did. That would be great if you could let me in," Sam replied, startled as the figure of Al Calavicci popped up between himself and the bell-boy.

"Sam, you can't go to your room. You have scenes to shoot!" chastised Al, waving his arm to emphasise the importance.

Favouring the observer with a glare, Sam followed the bell-hop to his room, and once inside, thanked the young man, closing the door behind him. Al had yelled after him the whole way, and it was Sam's turn to say his piece.

"We need to talk, Al. You told me I was going to leap, and now you're telling me that I'm here just to save some producer's career?"


"Huh?" the leaper questioned, baffled.

"John Glen is a director, not a producer," Al corrected.

Sam heaved an annoyed sigh and continued on. "Well, whatever. I mean, is it really that important that he continue directing? I don't wanna see anyone get hurt, but how am I supposed to change if they're riding motorcycles in the snow or not?" He couldn't remember much about James Bond flicks, but he was sure that kind of action couldn't just be cut out of the movie.

"John went on to direct a few more Bond films, and a few other low-key movies. I don't know how you're going to do it, Sam, but Ziggy says you gotta, otherwise you're not going to leap."
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Old 10-20-2003, 04:20 PM   #5
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Default Part 5 : Convincing the stunt men

Sam gave Al a face the Observer knew all too well. "Don't give me that, Al! Ziggy's been wrong before!"

"Uh uhhh, Sam!" Al gestured wildly with his handlink, and Ziggy produced some most unlady-like squeals in response. "Wha?" He looked at the handlink again. "Oh, sorry Zig!" He put the handlink away for a moment and gestured with the cigar while shaking his head sadly. "She's all upset that you've made this happen, Sam! Evidently, she's got a thing for Roger Moore, too!"

Dr Beckett blinked for a second and grinned wide like the proverbial cat, raising his eyebrows. "She -"

"...Has a thing for action flicks now, Sam! But not the computer generated ones, like 'The Matrix'... more, old school."

"'The Matrix'? Wha?"

Al cut him off rather seriously. "Don't Ask! And don't give me that look, either Sam! You know the rules! I'm not allowed to tell you what's going on at home! Anybody's home!"

Sam blew out a sigh. "Okay, okay. The point is, Ziggy's been wrong before!"

"Not this time, buddy!" Al said, pulling the blinking gizmo out of his pocket. Rechecking the display he nodded and stuck the lit Cuban in his mouth. "Hmmm, see, it says here, that there is a 89.7575 and on and on percent chance that the death of the two stuntmen comes back to haunt him. He has nightmares about it, and..." Al paused, truly grief-stricken. "Sam, it drives him insane."

The doctor in Sam Beckett surged forward with concern, overtaking all of Sam's normal psyche. "You certain on this Al? It's just a movie! And a dumb one if I remember correctly."

Al looked hurt. "Well, it wasn't so bad! After my days of being a Disco Darlin', I really got into the action flicks. The James Bond stuff was light hearted, but that's what we American's loved about the British! I even MET the 'real' James Bond in person. What a nice guy! He hated the movies, though!" Al said with a laugh. "But they weren't that bad, Sam! In fact, the only real stinker of the Bond flicks was 'Moonraker'!" he said with a shake of his head in disgust. Al caught Sam's bemused eye. "You don't know what real spaceflight was like, Sam! All you ever did was stuff as a chimp!"

Now it was Sam's turn to be hurt. "Al! It's not like I have a choice in who I leap into!" Then he paused. "I was a chimpanzee?" And he looked baffled for a moment... as if a memory was there and gone.

"Ahhh! Why do I bother talking about this stuff with you, especially when your brain gets magnafoozled!" Al turned away. "Sam, it's important," the Project Administrator said, turning serious. "John Glen's individual health may or may not be the key, but those two stunt men ARE important."

"Al, I hate to be the downer here, but stunt men take huge risks on movies. What good am I gonna do with them? I don't know the first thing about that stuff. And look at me. I'm a little girl! How exactly do you expect me to stop or change this?" Sam sat down on the bed in exasperation, and began to massage his sore feet.

"Sam, I honestly don't know," Al said softly. Then he crouched down low to look his friend in the eye. "You've done a lot of good for others. Is it so much to ask?"

Dr. Beckett looked his friend in the eye. "What is the real reason behind this? There's something you're not telling me... isn't there?"

Al dropped his head in his hands. "Sam... you're probably not going to believe this, but the young man you crashed into out there on the ice... that's one of the stuntmen. That young man... is Tina's older brother!"

Sam sat back with a frown, suddenly remember Dr. Tina Martinez-O'Farrel, Project: Quantum Leap's pulse communications technician, sometimes programmer, and Al's lover.

* * * * * * * *
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