Message-ID: <gdqJyiA$Deu1MwI3@sam-tech.demon.co.uk>
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 14:43:27 +0100
From: Heather Markham <Heather@sam-tech.demon.co.uk>
Subject: alternus-tempus.p03

CHAPTER THREE

   Sam made good time getting to the saloon. The atmosphere 
inside was warm and smoky. The place was dimly lit by large 
hanging globe lanterns. The area surrounding the bar was 
bathed in red and green coloured twinkling lights. The walls 
were adorned with framed prints of old sailing ships. It was 
a busy place, some people sat, talking and drinking, in the 
dark leather bench seats edging the room, others sat 
conversationally around the small circular tables which 
occupied the rest of the space. Finding himself an empty 
stool at the bar counter, Sam sat down, half turned to keep 
an eye on the saloon's swing doors. His eyes searched from 
table to table, from one face to another, looking for Dana 
and the man with whom she was supposed to be here. There was 
no sign of them, he must have arrived before them. Turning 
back to the counter he tried to attract the attention of the 
busy bartender. He wasn't intending to drink too much but 
his friend's sudden appearance back at the apartment had 
distracted him from the sandwich and the cup of coffee. 
Thinking back, he couldn't remember the last time liquid of 
any kind had passed his lips and now his thirst was raging. 
At last he caught the barman's eye and called over for a 
cold, light beer.

  Picking up the pint glass, he hesitated, what events would 
happen next, would he get to talk to Dana, what should he 
say to her? He looked deep into the sparkling amber-tinted 
liquid as if it were some strange prophetic crystal ball. As 
the tiny bubbles danced their way up to form a foaming head 
on the drink, he tried to imagine the future, a future 
perpetuated by one past foolish action, a future of total 
uncertainty....on his own....and without Dana. Maybe Al had 
been right all along, perhaps he should never have let his 
emotions get the better of him, he shouldn't have allowed 
himself to fall in love with her. If he hadn't fallen for 
her, he wouldn't be suffering the painful heartache he now 
felt. He sighed, a long drawn out sigh of regret, it was too 
late, things had happened the way they had and although he 
was a time-traveller he couldn't change his own destiny, he 
couldn't turn back and reset the hands on the clock of his 
own life. He remembered everything about her so strongly, 
every tiny aspect of her personality, her face and her body, 
perhaps he would remember her for the rest of eternity. 

   Sam licked his dry lips and downed the contents of the 
glass. The icy cold beer hit his empty stomach with a sharp, 
painful jolt. Grimacing he rubbed a flat palm at his 
abdomen. Screwing up his eyes in painful reflex he realized 
he should have eaten something whilst he'd had the chance. 
He scanned the bar for signs of a menu. A sign hung on the 
wall behind the counter advertising snacks and meals but it 
also informed him that food wasn't served after nine 
o'clock. Laying a couple of Pendrell's hard earned dollar 
notes on the counter, he called over to the bartender to 
bring him a double scotch, that, he thought, would take the 
edge off the sharpness of the cold drink. It might also give 
him a little extra 'Dutch Courage', after all, very soon, he 
could be facing a difficult and dangerous 
situation....maybe, even death! 

   The scotch was placed before him along with a small pile 
of change. He picked up the small tumbler, turned it around 
and around between his hands warming it, then swigged half 
of it with a quick gulp. The harsh spirit stung his throat 
but made his stomach feel better. 

   Swiveling on the stool, he turned to watch the door once 
more. Impatience squeezing his diaphragm and causing him to 
breath rapidly. It was nine-forty-five,  where was she? How 
long had he to wait? Cursing silently under his breath, he 
whispered to himself, "Where the hell are you Al, I need to 
know how long I've got. I need to work out what I'm going to 
do." The man standing next to him frowned, looked him up and 
down and edged further along the bar. He glanced back at the 
man, nodded his head, raised his  glass in an attitude of 
cheers, smiled sweetly and downed the remainder of the 
scotch.

   An alcoholic glow slowly began to spread throughout his 
body. The pleasant warm sensation released more memories of 
the night he'd spent with Dana. Shaking his head again, he  
desperately tried to  rid himself of the thoughts, he needed 
to pull himself together if he was to change things tonight. 
But the feeling and emotions the alcohol had induced dogged 
him. With little choice but to succumb to them, he closed 
his eyes, another surge of memories and feelings filled his 
mind and coursed through his body and soul. He could hardly 
wait to see her again, he felt like a kid at Christmas Eve. 
The fact that he was here on business and she would be here 
on business of another kind was fast fading from his mind in 
a fuzzy haze. Someone bumped against him, his eyes flew 
open,  reality hitting him, he was supposed to be watching 
for her. Quickly, he scanned the room again...still no signs 
of her, he eased his tightly hunched shoulders down. The 
reality of it was, that he'd probably only get to see her 
for a few minutes, he'd probably say two words to her, he'd 
do something to alter history and time would leap him away 
again. Those thoughts led him to start thinking about 
talking to his family. He'd  had the chance to call his mom 
and his sister during his last leap.....only he'd decided to 
wait until he'd gone through the retrieval process and had 
leaped home for good. He had chosen to wait so that he could 
call and then go visit. That....everything, had been cruelly 
snatched away from him. Time, fate, God, whatever, had 
chosen once more to rob him of the life he wanted back. He 
swallowed hard in an effort to rid himself of the lump in 
his throat, it didn't work. He turned back to the barman, 
ordered another double scotch and slowly sipped at it.

   The bartender came over to him and set down tw drinks, 
the scotch and a tall cocktail glass full of frothing thick 
red liquid, he pointed over to a man dressed in a dark suit 
standing across at the corner of the bar. "Guy over there, 
sent this over for you. He said to say thanks for the help."  

   Sam looked at the glass picked it up, intrigued at it's 
contents and even more intrigued by the message. He guessed 
it must have something to do with Pendrell's job.  Looking 
over at the man, he nodded and raised the glass in thanks. 
The other man raised his own glass in acknowledgment, then 
moved away from the bar to mingle with the crowd of late 
night drinkers.
   
   The barman was standing near him, buffing a wine glass, 
he looked casually over, "It's called a velvet glove. The 
trick is to down it in one go." Sam frowned, inspected the 
drink once more, shrugged then tipped the liquid down his 
throat and spluttered, it was just about the strongest, 
foulest tasting drink he'd ever had the misfortune to taste. 
He quickly wiped the remains of the liquid from his mouth 
and chased it with the scotch, in the hope of replacing one 
taste with the other. It worked but his stomach gurgled in 
disapproval.

   Sam wasn't used to imbibing that much alcohol, especially 
on an empty stomach and in such a short space of time.   He 
wasn't drunk yet though, he was sure of that! He wouldn't 
allow himself to get drunk tonight, tonight he had an 
important job to do and he didn't want to act the fool 
around Dana either. The couple of drinks he'd had already, 
couldn't possibly make him more than just an itsy little bit 
tipsy....could it? Nah...no...definitely not...after all he 
was still in full command of his flaculties... 
er...flac...fac..ulties!

   Drunkenness wasn't a feeling the scientist particularly 
enjoyed. He didn't like being out of control of his mind or 
body.  Spirits, however, did sometimes serve a purpose, they 
eased painful memories and carried them in soft fluffy white 
clouds of thought. Spirits, he thought to himself, sometimes 
raised his spirits. He turned back to the bar, giggling at 
his own lame joke as he scooped up the small pile of loose 
change and stuffed it into his outside jacket pocket. His 
fingers released the coins and closed on a small flat 
package.  He drew out the mystery object and inspected it, 
it was a small package covered in brightly coloured birthday 
wrapping paper, the red coloured ribbon securing it was tied 
with a tiny bow. A small heart shaped name tag bore the 
words, With affection D.P.

   The quantum physicist's normally quick brain was slightly 
fuddled and was acting slower than usual. He stared at it, 
the cogs of his mind turned and finally found the right 
slot. Of course, that's what had struck him about the 
date...yesterday was the twenty-third of February....it had 
been Dana's birthday! The gift was a present from Pendrell 
to Dana! Another cog of thought slipped into place. 'Oh my 
God..Dana is the mystery woman the other guys were teasing 
me about earlier this evening. Well, well, well.....Pendrell 
has a crush on Dana Scully. He probably meant to give her 
the gift at the party last night but, for some reason, he 
hadn't been able to get there.' Continuing to gaze at the 
small present, he thought how ironic the situation was, he 
loved Dana and it seemed that Pendrell might feel the same 
way about her and neither of them stood a cold chance in 
Hell of ending up with her. 

   A hand suddenly clamped his shoulder from behind. In his  
ever so slightly befuddled state, the time-traveller half 
expected it to be his faithful observer, his life long pal.  
He looked up into the grinning face of  Barnes, accompanied 
by three other young men, two of whom he recognised from the 
lab room back at the headquarters. One of them spoke to 
Barnes, "Frank, what say we all go on to the Pink Panther 
Club". The man grinned and nodded, then turned his attention 
back to Sam, 
   "What are you doing hiding way over here, why didn't you 
come over and join me and the boys at our usual table? Say, 
you wanna come with us? It'd be better entertainment than 
this damn place." Sam, shrugged, 
   "Sorry, Frank, I'm..er....waiting for someone." 
   "I hope you're not waiting for who I think you're waiting 
for. 'Cos you could be in for a long wait, Danny boy, I've 
heard she's outa town." He called over to one of the other 
guys, 
  "Scully's not around, is she?" A voice answered, "Last I 
heard she went off to investigate that air crash with 
Mulder."

   Sam's expression changed, his heart missed a beat,  
  "No...that can't be, she's supposed to be here.....she's 
got to be here...I've got something for her." Frank winked 
at the other men, 
  "Hey, someone buy this poor guy a good stiff drink...he's 
got it bad."
  "Nn..no, I'm..I'm alright here, really, I don't need 
another drink." Sam replied shaking his head. Frank turned 
back to him, ignoring his refusal, 
  "Look, you're never gonna get anywhere with her, she and 
Mulder are joined at the hip. My advice is, forget about 
her, least ways for tonight. Come and have some fun....you 
might meet some other gorgeous babe, 'course she may not 
have the same amount of brains as Scully but what the 
heck...you can't have everything, come on, live a little." 

   The ordered drinks arrived on the counter in front of 
Sam. Whoever had ordered them had done him the favour of 
getting him another double scotch. "We're just gonna have 
these last couple of beers and then we're going.....come on! 
Come with us.....the night is young and so are we." He 
leaned forward and gave a very Albert Calavicci-type leer,  
   "There are girls out there just waiting to meet great 
guys like us!"

   Sam took the glass of scotch and stared into it.   What 
the hell, it'd be a waste of a good drink to just leave it 
untouched. Waving a hand at his fellow colleagues he replied 
blearily, 
  "No...no, really, I'm not in the mood now. You guys go on 
and enjoy yourself. I'm gonna wait here for a while more. 
I'm kinda hoping she'll turn up later. if she doesn't, well, 
then I think I'll turn in. I'll....er..I'll see you guys 
tomorrow." 

   "Well... we hate to leave you here...don't we guys? But 
okay, if you're absolutely sure....if you change your mind 
you know where we'll be." Sam downed the drink and nodded 
fervently, 
   "Yeah, yeah....I'll see you guys tomorrow."

   The group of FBI workers sat their empty glasses back on  
the drink-sodden counter next to his, laughing and joking 
they made their way out of the saloon bar leaving Sam to 
himself.

   Back at the Project Centre, the bugs in the system were 
still causing problems. The Imaging Chamber had temporarily 
become unstable. Gushie, Bettenhoff and the other 
technicians had been frantically trying to right the 
problems. The hand-link was inoperable and the back-up was 
likely to fuse at any second. As if that wasn't enough of a 
problem,  Ziggy, who had been monitoring Sam for the last 
hour, had drawn Al and Verbena Beeck's attention to the fact 
that there was a marked change in Doctor Beckett's brain 
wave patterns, they were rapidly pulsing between beta and 
alpha states. Al was becoming increasingly worried, he'd 
spoken to Pendrell in the Waiting Room, Pendrell had been a 
real pleasure to deal with, unlike Mulder, but hadn't been 
of any real use. The Navy man made good use of his enforced 
stay, he'd had Ziggy locate and access the classified 
details of Pendrell's death, It was still unclear as to when 
it all happened but they did know something, at the time the 
young forensics expert had been wounded, he had been drunk!

   Finally, the Imaging Chamber was ready enough for 
holographic transference. Al's image wavered in and out in 
front of an ever so slightly drunken Samuel Beckett. He 
passed a hand through the intermittent wavering space, shook 
his head and blinked. Gushie gave the holographic enhancer a 
boost of power and the observer's image finally settled into 
a static shape. Sam raised himself from the bar stool and 
took an unstable step forward and grinned stupidly at his 
friend, 
   "Hellooo there, best buddy, my little partner in time," 
he giggled involuntarily at the pun and clamped a hand over 
his own mouth. Al frowned, then scowled.
   "What the hell...Sam, you're drunk! What the hell do you 
think you're playing at. Goddammit, how ya gonna do what 
you're supposed to do with pickled brains! Aw..kid, why did 
ya have to go and get drunk? This is not the time or the 
place and this is definitely not like you, not like you at 
all. Jeez-Louise, I would'a thought tonight of all nights, 
you'd want to keep your wits about you. What's Dana gonna 
think when she sees you like this, what are you gonna say to 
her?" 
  Sam grinned apologetically, turned and tried to put a foot 
up on the bar foot-rail, misjudging things, his foot 
slipped, he grabbed at the counter and just managed to save 
himself from toppling sideways. Al, momentarily closed his 
eyes, cast his face to the ceiling and muttered something to 
himself. Sam fixed Al with a fuzzy stare, 
  "I'm drunk? Yeah..well, a  little tipsy maybe but no, not 
drunk." 
   Al looked him up and down, "Sam you're more than tipsy, 
you can't even stand up straight. Just how much have you 
had, anyway?" Sam flopped back onto the stool, counting off 
the number of drinks on his fingers, "Just a couple'a 
scotches and a beer." 
   "How many scotches?" enquired his friend. "One light beer 
and three...four doubles, oh yeah and one o' those tall red 
fizzy cocktaily things."
   "Sam, that's way too much for you on an empty stomach.  
You know what scotch does to you. That drink always sends 
your brains straight down to your boots. Sheesh....the one 
thing you shoulda' remembered, you had to go and forget. 
Look kid, I know things aren't exactly the way you want them 
to be but ya didn't have to do this to yourself." 
  Sam's expression changed from the lopsided tipsy grin of a 
moment before. He gazed at Al with cold hard eyes, a note of 
harsh sarcasm biting in his words, "What could possibly be 
so wrong that I'd want to blank it out with liquour. I'm on 
top of the world Al, hadn't you noticed? I haven't seen my 
folks in two years, I can never have a relationship with 
anyone 'cos I'm not seen for myself and I'm never around 
anywhere long  enough to have one, anyway. Finally, when I 
do find someone...someone special, who can love me for 
myself, see me as myself, fate snatches it all away and 
changes everything." The coldness in his eyes turned to 
sorrow, "Al, she told me that whatever happened we'd always 
have that night to remember....and God do I remember but she 
doesn't! For her it never happened, never will happen. I 
love  her so much it's tearing me apart and she doesn't even 
know I exist. How do you think that makes me feel? It 
hurts," Sam thumped at his chest and turned away, "it hurts 
deep inside here. For just a little while all the memories 
had floated away, why did you have to go and remind me!" 
  The words brought a lump to Al's throat, he had so much 
sympathy for his friend but when Sam acted like this, it 
never failed to get to him. He wanted to grab hold of him 
and shake him out of it, 
  "Get a hold of yourself, Sam! Sam....now you listen to me, 
dammit, this is exactly what happened the first time around, 
Pendrell got drunk, probably for similar reasons, probably 
feeling sorry for himself, too, then he got shot. If you're 
not careful the same things going to happen to you."
   "No, you've got it all wrong....you and Ziggy are both 
wrong this time.....who gave her that stupid name 
anyway?...I've been thinking while you've been gone, I'm not 
here to get shot, I'm just here to give Dana a birthday 
present, that's all, just a simple little task, no guns, no 
big bangs, no big drama. I'm here to give her a present and 
ask her out on a date, that's all!" A broad grin had 
returned to his face, The man sitting at the next stool gave 
him a dirty look. Al motioned Sam to keep his voice down. 
His friend responded by placing a finger to his lips and 
shushing conspiratorially. 

   Al was dumbfounded by his friend's behaviour, he turned 
away in exasperation. How could he get through to his friend 
while he was in that state. But Sam had a point, perhaps the 
simple task of giving Dana the birthday present would be 
enough to change things, maybe Ziggy was wrong. Perhaps the 
simple act of presenting Dana with a gift would be enough to 
change things. He tapped at the hand-link and questioned the 
hybrid super computer, hoping Sam was right. His heart sank, 
the odds were now eighty per cent that Sam was going to end 
up getting himself killed, just like Pendrell. He looked up 
and opened his mouth to speak and suddenly spotted Dana 
coming through the door with the guy from the Air Force, 
Frisch. He pushed more buttons and centred himself in front 
of Sam, from Sam's point of view, Al's head and shoulders 
were sticking up through the bar counter. His friend was 
frantically trying to get him to turn around. 
  "Get a hold of yourself now! This is it, kid, here she 
comes now!" 
  Sam laughed and swung round to see Dana and the other man 
walk up to an empty table. The man seated himself, Dana 
headed on towards the bar and him. His heart leaped and his 
pulse rate doubled, at last she was here, now all he had to 
do was get her to talk to him and give her the gift.

   In an inebriated state, the usually brilliant mind of the 
scientist groped for the right words to say, his mind fought 
to remember dialogue he'd carefully and repeatedly rehearsed 
just before Al had turned up. The words swam indistinctly 
around his mind. He turned towards Dana Scully, to his 
horror, his mouth took over from his brain, 
  "Hey! Birthday girl!" 
  Al was aghast, his mouth dropped open, he stared at Sam in 
utter disbelief. He shook his head, trying desperately to 
prompt his friend with something sensible to say. His 
friend, however, was off on a planet of his own. Scully 
stared at the swaying figure of Pendrell and tried to edge 
away. She had always had a soft spot for the young man but 
this was neither the time nor the place to become involved 
in drunken discourse, she was here on a matter of important 
business. She glanced around at the other drinkers, across 
to  Sergeant Frisch and back to Sam, replying, "Agent 
Pendrell....how are you doing?" He grinned at her in 
response and searched  for the gift. Panic rose within him, 
where the hell had he put it? He had to stall her, he had to 
keep her talking long enough to find the darned present,      
  "Don't go...I...er..I've been waiting for you. I have 
something for you.....where've you been?" Dana smiled 
weakly, replying as she edged away, 
  "I've been...erm, gone!?" The fact that Al had been 
shouting in his ear for the last couple of minutes wasn't 
helping him to think any clearer. The helpful suggestions 
were merely serving as an unwanted distraction. Giving up on 
the futile search for the missing gift, he moved towards 
Dana, he couldn't let her go yet, he had to fulfill his 
mission. 
   "Can I buy you a drink?" Scully turned to indicate 
Frisch.
   "No, it's alright, I'm with someone." Sam's brain 
registered the fact that he should have known that, giggling 
he replied, 
   "Okay, let me buy him a drink too."
   "No, no really, it's okay...really. I'm kinda busy right 
now." 
   Scully didn't have the time to waste, Frisch was looking 
towards her with a  worried look on his face. Sam swayed and 
turned back to the bar, "Bartender...set me up with a couple 
of Birthday girl drinks here." 

   Al was following his friend's every move. He couldn't 
believe the way his normally level-headed friend was 
handling the situation. He'd been trying to give him 
instructions from the moment Dana had turned up but Sam 
didn't appear to hear him, either that or he just didn't 
want to hear what he had to say. He'd never seen Sam behave 
quite in this way before. Oh he'd seen Sam drunk before he'd 
even gotten drunk along side him on one occasion, but 
tonight was different, tonight Sam was acting real strange. 

   The doors to the bar swung open, Al watched as a dark 
swarthy man edged into the bar, the man's dark eyes searched 
the room for Frisch. For Albert Calavicci time slowed down, 
it seemed as if the world had entered a different dimension. 
He watched with helpless horror as the man drew out a gun. 
Sam had picked up the drinks and was walking towards Dana 
and Frisch. Dana turned, saw the man, drew out her own 
weapon and threw herself towards Frisch. Al gained control 
of his motor functions, forgetting in the heat of the moment 
that he was a hologram, he tried to shove his friend out of 
the way, only to find himself falling awkwardly through his 
friend. Scrambling back to his feet he screamed a warning, 
desperately hoping the words would get through Sam's drunken 
skull, "SAM! LOOK OUT! GET OUTA THE WAY, SAM!" The words 
caught their intended target, the tipsy physicist turned 
unsteadily and caught sight of the armed man, the tray of 
drinks slid from his grasp, he shot out a protective arm 
towards Dana and  launched himself across the table in an 
effort to shield her. Al stared at the unfolding scene. The 
gunman levelled his arm and squeezed the trigger. Noise 
filled the air and echoed around Al's head, he could almost 
see the bullet travel towards his best friend. Suddenly, 
time righted itself, everything happened at once. Sam reeled 
backwards, pulling the table along with him and hit the 
floor in a shower of broken glass and spilled beer. Scully 
returned fire and shot at the gunman wounding him in the 
leg. There were screams and shouts, the happy atmosphere of 
a few minutes earlier changed to one of confused panic. 

   Al rushed over to kneel beside his injured friend. Sam 
lay on the floor clutching at his bleeding chest. Blood was 
seeping from the wound soaking into his shirt and dribbling 
onto the floor. Shock and alcohol combined to befuddle his 
brain. An expression of bewilderment mingled with a look of 
pain, he coughed, each breath harsh and agonizing, 
  "A..Aaal...what's happening...I wasn't supposed to get 
shot. This wasn't meant to happen. I...I was so sure....."    
  He closed his eyes and groaned, pain surged through his 
chest, a dull fog filled his mind, 
  "Oh God..I..I didn't give her the gift, I didn't change 
anything....I...I failed....I'm soooo stupid.....I..." 
  Al's face had gone deathly pale, 
 "Don't talk kid, save your energy. You did just fine, 
you're gonna be okay, you ain't dead yet and you're not 
gonna be either....you changed history Sam....Just lay there 
still and let Dana look at your wound." 
  Scully had  reached Sam, she was beside him on the floor, 
pulling open his shirt. Someone handed her a rolled bar 
towel, she inspected the injury and pressed the towel hard 
against the wound, 
  "It's okay, Pendrell, you hear me, it's okay. We still 
haven't celebrated my birthday. I'm not going to let you off 
the hook that easily. Don't worry about the silly gift, you 
can give it to me later.......I'm going to hold you to 
that." 
  Sam's body shook, his eyes rolled back. Scully wriggled 
out of her overcoat, balled it into a pillow and  gently 
placed it beneath his head. 
  "Listen...Pendrell! You're going to be okay....just hold 
on!" She called over to the barman, "Phone for an ambulance. 
Someone look after him,  keep that pad on his chest. I'll be 
back in a moment." 
  Al watched in horror as she dashed off in pursuit of the 
wounded gunman. He yelled after her, 
  "Hey, you can't just leave him like that, I thought you 
cared?! Come back, damn it!" 
   He turned and cast a glare at the onlookers who'd 
gathered in a circle around his friend. He was on his feet 
and shouting, "Well, watcha' waiting for, do as the lady 
said......call an ambulance, help him, come on...do 
somethin." 
  To his annoyance and rage the words echoed flatly around 
him. No one but Sam could hear him. Sam gasped suddenly, his 
body convulsed, then went limp. His breath gurgled in his 
throat. Al threw himself back down beside his injured 
friend, His face was crumpled into tight lines of worry, 
   "Sam! Sam? Saam ya gotta wake up, don't you black out on 
me now kid.....come on, come on....don't you do this to me 
again." He looked up and around the saloon room, "Where the 
hell is she? Someone do somethin'!" he yelled. 

   The doors burst open, Scully pushed through the gathering 
of shocked spectators, and knelt back beside the injured 
body of Pendrell. Al could see the sudden look of concern in 
her face as she opened his closed eyes then searched for 
Sam's pulse. Tipping his head back over her knee, she 
pinched his nose, covered his mouth with her own and gave 
him three short puffs of her air. Nothing....she interlocked 
her fingers, one hand over the other and began pumping his 
heart back into rhythm. Stopping briefly to check for vital 
life signs she expertly re-applied the actions..... still 
nothing. Al was whispering words of encouragement to his 
friend and willing him to live, with all his energy. Three 
more puffs of oxygen. Sam drifted back to consciousness, his 
eyes flickered, he peeked them open. Dana's face filled his 
vision, his head was cradled in her lap, her mouth was on 
his, her lips over his, her breath in his lungs. Feeling the 
rise of his chest and the twitch of his muscles she began to 
draw away from him. The pain had subsided a little but his 
mind was still clouded by alcohol, he couldn't help himself, 
as she began to draw away, he raised his head and moved with 
her turning the act of resuscitation into a kiss. For a 
fleeting moment she responded to the kiss, then in 
embarrassment, broke away, a look of confusion and 
puzzlement in her eyes. She excused the behaviour and smiled 
at him gently, 
  "It's okay...I think you're going to be fine now. The 
paramedics are on their way." 

   Al had been staring closely at the scene, he raised his 
eyebrows, scratched at the back of his head in bemused 
exasperation, 
  "You sly dog! Don't you ever put me through that again 
just to get a kiss....otherwise I'm the one whose gonna end 
up in an early grave!" 
  Sam smiled weakly then winked surreptitiously at his 
friend and whispered hoarsely, 
   "Just making the most of the situation." 
  Dana glanced down at him, "What was that?" Sam coughed, "I 
just said thanks, you saved my life." He tried to move but 
the action brought a wave of dizziness. The room swam, the 
ceiling above him twirled. He shut his eyes and groaned, not 
only had he to deal with the pain of being shot but now it 
seemed he had to cope with a fast approaching hangover. Dana 
gathered him into her arms and continued to press the pad to 
his wound. Al bent closer to check he was okay,               
   "Sam?..Saaam, you okay kid? You may as well wake up, 'cos 
you won't get away with that a second time." 
  The still slightly tipsy quantum physicist opened one eye 
carefully, the ceiling was still spinning but not quite so 
fast. Slowly opening the other, he looked at his friend then 
back to Dana and said quietly, 
  "You told me fibs, I died...I must be dead, 'cos I'm in 
heaven right now." 
 Dana's gentle smile broke into a grin and she laughed. She 
couldn't see the relief showing on Al's face nor could she 
hear him but he sat on the floor and curled with laughter.

   There was a sudden bustle of noise, the police arrived 
accompanied by the ambulance team. The paramedics quickly 
took over from Scully, loaded Sam onto a stretcher and 
carried him off to the waiting ambulance, Al joined him on 
board. Scully stayed to talk with the police, she stood and 
watched as the vehicle noisily headed off into the darkness 
towards the Hospital. She had a strange feeling about 
Pendrell, she didn't know what it was but she felt there was 
definitely more to the young man than she'd ever imagined.
-- 
Heather Markham